Lincoln

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Don’t you love it when you see a good film? I mean, a really good film? It’s as if you can almost forgive Hollywood’s slew of crap and truly appreciate a really great movie. Well, that’s just the case with Lincoln. If one can overlook the temporary injections of corniness, they can witness a beautiful, passionately and wonderfully acted, and an even charming film blossom before their very eyes.

Lincoln follows the 16th President and his cabinet’s journey to establish the 13th Amendment; you know, the one that gets rid of slavery? Obviously, it’s kind of a big deal, and some people don’t like it. Abraham Lincoln must convince his nation to ratify this measure, all while attempting to bring the Civil War to a close, grieve with his wife Mary over the death of his son Willy, raise and love his other two boys, and deal with a bunch of old, grumpy white guys.

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In short, Spielberg’s still got it. All of these topics are handled gracefully and flow smoothly with each other, also managing to paint a touching portrait of Lincoln. (Lincoln’s kind of like the Grandpa you wished you had, who would go off topic and tell funny stories, then somehow tie that story into his preceding point, and look really cool and wise.) While Spielberg’s direction is great (one is always aware of the camera, but it seems more like a warm invite than an irritating awareness), let’s give a round of applause for Tony Kushner, the screenwriter. It takes great skill to construct an accurate and pleasing portrait of Lincoln and his presidency. And the assassination: tactful, despite how weird that may sound. The death of America’s President is sad, yet bittersweet.

And wow, I forgot to mention the acting; that’s just how good it is. Everyone falls completely into their characters, and I bet you $100 Daniel Day-Lewis is winning that Oscar.*

Lincoln is one of the best films this year, no doubt about it.

☆☆☆☆

*I’m sorry, I actually can’t give you a $100. 

Looper and Donnie Darko: A Mini Review and a Mini-Mini Review

What an apt name for a film. It’s complicated, but not confusing. Involving, but not exactly thrilling. It definitely sends your brain in loops, but not because the it’s hard to understand, but by the end of the movie, one has to ask: how does a film that began so wonderful end so horribly?

To not waste my time or yours, I’ll diverge from detailing every little aspect of the plot. (If you want to meet a time-travel expert who know how to dissect Looper’s twisty storyline, see here.) Basically, Young Joe (JGL) is trying to kill Old Joe (Bruce Willis), and Old Joe is running away and trying to murder a kid who eventually grows up and becomes a terrorist who murders his wife of the future. This kid happens to live on a farm with Sara (Emily Blunt), a farm Young Joe happens to stumble upon.

Yeah. It’s not what I expected either.

By the first-half of the movie, everything is fresh. Fascinating concept, fast pacing, and fun dialogue, especially between Old Joe and Young Joe. But after this stage conversation is finished (oddly the only one of the two times they even see each other), the films slows down dramatically. It doesn’t even seem like the same movie anymore. Sub-plots of telekinesis and tired inclusions of inherently bad kids who use their superpowers for evil makes the film seem forced. Old Joe avenging for his wife? Contrived. Even Bruce Willis is criminally under-used in this movie.

Once the ending comes, with Levitt in voice-over every tying every loose string in one nice little package, one just wants to roll their eyes.

☆☆☆

Donnie Darko
Funnily, this film reminded me of many movies I’ve seen recently: Magnolia, American
Beauty, even Looper. Yet, even though I didn’t understand this movie fully, I absolutely loved it. Forget the witty dialogue and the excellent acting – the storyline juggles a number of diverging storylines and handles them beautifully. Time travel? Schizophrenia?  Religion? School politics? This film has it all – and does it all wonderfully.

☆☆☆☆ and 1/2 Stars

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For October’s Book Vs. Film selection, I’ll review the short story and film, Minority Report. Look for the reviews this week! (Thank you to Stephanie for the suggestion!)

The Master and the End of the Paul Thomas Anderson Marathon

One of the best benchmarks for reviewing a film is seeing how well it stands up days after the initial viewing. Thoughts become focused and precise, where the fog of hype and bartering fades away (“Well, they did do that bad, but at least…“) and true feelings towards the film surface. I try to employ this with mostly every movie I watch. This is the reason why, day by day, I continually lose respect for The Master and PTA’s films in general. Throughout this marathon, I’ve watched the films of PTA and though I’ve enjoyed them, there was always something missing. Something that’s scratched at my brain for some time now, but after The Master, I realized what was lacking in Anderson’s films: meaning.

In The Master, we are greeted by Freddie Quell, a wrecked leftover from WW2 who possessed some serious mental issues, some fostered by disastrous exposure to brutal killings, some created by the puzzling grooves of his mind. He’s unpredictable and has a ravenous sexual appetite. When we are first introduced to Freddie in the opening sequence, including a scene of him humping a sand lady he’s fashioned on the beach, one can’t help but wonder: is this nurture of his nature?

Therefore, it’s even more interesting to see a cult leader, Lancaster Dodd take on Freddie, somewhat as a pet project. (P.S. This film is not only about Scientology. The themes in The Master can apply to any religious or educational hub). We’re promised to see an intricate examination of the human psyche as people are massaged into dangerous and cultish thoughts, but the result is much different.

Before I give my spill, I would like to at least explain The Master isn’t terrible, at least not in terms outside storytelling. Everyone here is absolutely brilliant and absolutely convincing in their roles; certain scenes would be vapid if PTA didn’t employ old regulars such as Philip Seymour Hoffman or Joaquin Phoenix. Though Amy Adams seems like a flat character (silent yet strong type woman is fastly becoming a caricature in film), these actors take on an interesting script and give dazzling performances.

That’s where it stops for The Master and most of PTA’s films: mere interestingness.

Now, unlike Magnolia, some of the questions left over from The Master actually please the viewer and stretches their imagination. Why does Freddie join Dodd’s religion? A lost soul looking for the answers to his questions? Why does Freddie defend him, sometimes physically? Does he join the Cause because it’s “cool” and something new? Why does Dodd take Freddie on? The mere booze he provides? Pet project? However, as the movie progresses, these fascinating questions evolve into major irritations. There are no hints and no points to the movie.

Additionally, what is the point of this film? Be careful who you trust in? When in doubt, add a sex scene? What meaning do the numerous sexual references have? Does The Master have any meaning? An often recurring pop-up in PTA’s films is that there is no meaning. Everything is merely interesting, never insightful. The Master never fully impacts because Anderson mixes characters with lazy story lines (not so much in construction of the script, but applying innate ideas to a film with substance). PTA has a talent for devising interesting and complicated characters in dramatic plots, but again, they stop there. Enigmatic people who convey no truth about life. Substance in films don’t equal sunshine and rainbows (American Beauty is controversial, yet it had substance and a point to it: how beautiful life is, yet how fleeting beauty is in one’s life, especially one stunted with droning complacency). An well-executed movie lets the moviegoer think for themselves and devise their own reasonable dissection of the film, enabling an emotional and mental connection. There is no such thing with PTA or The Master.

I’ve been patient with Anderson’s films, re-watching movies and trying to analyze those
movies where a point can be found. Yet, nothing. It’s like being promised a present but having confetti thrown in your face: it’s pretty and colorful (interesting), but what’s the meaning?

Therefore, therein is the most damaging element in PTA’s films. It is so bad that I will have to decline to watch Hard Eight for this marathon. The Master has all the right ingredients: wonderful leads, an engaging plot (if Anderson focused on cultism and not Freddie’s decaying life, would The Master have been rescued?) and beautiful cinematography. Except one is left out: purpose.

☆☆

Punch-Drunk Love

This post is a part of the Paul Thomas Anderson Marathon on RandomFilmBuff, a week dedicated to the films of PTA, all leading up to the release of his new film, The Master. 

Punch-Drunk Love is a very special film. It would be insulting to call it sweet, quirky, or just romantic – even if that’s what it is. Anderson uses a number of cinematic elements to craft an intriguing picture of loneliness: the overwhelming sense of blue in every frame, supermarkets and households that only offer endless monotony and the cool chill of isolation, an oddly lovable guy who revels in a dangerous cycle of seclusion and rage so much he tries to find company in a phone sex line. It has the ingredients for an excellent film, and it is nothing short of great, but one can only wonder, “what if..?”

Barry (Adam Sandler) is crazy. Not Norman Bates crazy or anything, but he’s got some serious issues for sure. Lonely would be an understatement to describe his life. Even in a room packed with people, Barry is always alone. He experiences rashes of anger; it boils beneath his red-hot skin when provoked, and explodes whenever it desires to. But, Barry is not all crazy. He’s a pretty sweet guy. A sweet, nice guy who falls in love with Lena.

Punch-Drunk Love seems like it missed the mark, though. Where it did score: hilarious comedic moments, solid performances, and a charming script, it soars. But it’s as if Anderson began penning a screenplay that would be the study of the life of a lonely man in a lonely world, a great psychological and emotional experience. But does PTA take the easy way out? Don’t get me wrong, this love story is nothing short of fantastic: the music and writing is instantly distinctive and the cinematography so strong that if one paused the movie in any place, the frame would be a work of art. It dares the audience to resist its charms. But what if Punch-Drunk Love was a more serious venture into the mind of an ordinary, but not-so ordinary man? Would Punch-Drunk Love be better?

But, for what it is, Punch-Drunk Love is not to be dismissed. Loneliness may be powerful and fuel horrible side-effects such as vicious rage, but love is just as powerful, of which Paul Thomas Anderson truly shows. Punch-Drunk Love gets the job done clean and smooth, leaving a smile on the audience’s face.

☆☆☆ and 1/2 Stars

Why I Loved the Film ‘Trishna’

  • The Indian backdrop? It has to be a great film, right? Remember Slumdog Millionaire?
  • And look: it stars Frieda Pinto. Now it really has to be good.

  • Awww…a romance story. Rich boy meets poor girl? How original! Now I’m glad I didn’t see Step Up: Revolution.
  • The countless scenes that simply consist of odd exchanges of dialogue, her prancing around Mumbai, and introductions of characters that suddenly disappear from the film.

                                                                The 10,000 sex scenes.

  • The stereotypical characters. Trishna’s father, for example: An ‘Indian-men-are-always-rude-to-women’ character? Superb scriptwriting.
  •  The long, dreary time length! Of course I was all too enamored with the main guy treating Trishna like garbage.

  • Sub-plots that fade into the background and confuse the already muddled script even more. Winterbottom = next Steven Spielberg.
  • And the acting is impeccable! One-dimensional characters and one-faced acting definitely deserves an Oscar.

And of course, the great moral message: Let someone treat you like garbage for a long time, then when you’re sick of it, kill them. Then kill yourself. So empowering!

☆☆