2007 / Tony Gilroy > Michael Clayton is easy to like: Other than its somewhat long running-time and debatable ending, Gilroy’s directorial debut is void of any crass errors. George Clooney puts forth another intelligent performance that keeps him atop the top tier of Hollywood actors, but Tom Wilkinson ends up outshining him in a part that ought to get him an Oscar nomination at the very least. With its issues of corporate negligence and capitalist morality, the film is contemporary yet fresh. Its approach is akin to a lighter version of The Insider that’s better fit for the masses—there’s just enough action and craziness within to keep it riveting to those without an attention span. This all works well, but what trips the complete product is that it’s just too well packaged by the time the credits roll. But while there’s not much to hold onto past the two hours of celluloid, it must be said that this is one of the finest efforts major Hollywood has put forth in quite a while.
Category Archives: 4.0
This Is England
2007 / Shane Meadows > The biggest problem for This Is England has to do with how often in the stateside it’ll be compared to American History X. The latter was notoriously lacking in dimension, filled with more artificial punches and a biased tweak that did little to explain the foundation of supremacists groups. But Meadows’ latest venture is far cleverer and reverent, utilizing the Falklands War as a backdrop to dissect the rationale behind the sort of fascism that Thatcher’s term brought forth in England. Centralized around a 12 year-old (played brilliantly by newcomer Thomas Turgoose), the film rarely judges and generally lets emotions adjust to the social situations as they are seen fit.
Both character and subplot development are somewhat erratic, but once Stephen Graham enters the screen, much is forgotten. His portrayal of “Combo” is worthy of much praise, and shocks and awes the viewer into being glued to the cinema. In addition to that, This Is England’s multi-layered discussion of racial tensions, class relations and national identity drive the film into being a touching, memorable experience.
Sunshine
2007 / Danny Boyle > Sunshine crescendos into its finale in a way no other film has this year: It breaks through expectations into something surreal, almost messy, yet dazzlingly calculated. Boyle etches into our memories fear, hope, excitement and despair within a span of two hours by showing us the end of the world and the ways in which our ingenuity tries to prevent it. It’s intelligent and amusing, fusing genres and philosophies, and makes up for the arguable irrationality in the script with a thrill ride that’s as reverent for the body as it is for the mind.
Sweet Smell of Success
1957 / Alexander Mackendrick > Sweet Smell of Success is as dark and biting now as it must have been in its heyday. Burt Lancaster’s performance as a ruthless society columnist is second only to Tony Curtis’ mercurial, almost repulsive role as the public relations agent in constant need of dire favors. It’s always interesting to see a film from half a century ago and think that the world hasn’t changed much. While we all imagine a nice, quiet place pre-Internet, films like this are kind enough to show that people are always the same, and that it’s just their surroundings that change as time goes on.
The Lives of Others
2006 / Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck > Every year, there are a few films that have nearly flawless executions. In 2006, The Lives of Others just might have led that pack. While I couldn’t find myself as emotionally attached to the story as those who are natives of Germany or have been in similar collectivist situations, interest in the film rarely waned once the plot started to roll. The story of the East German Stasi is not one I was previously familiar with, but the 1984-esque paranoia that rung around the film was thick, congestive and effective. Personally, I couldn’t agree with some of the character development and emotional manipulation that occurs as the show goes on, but overall, I also can’t be angry that this beat out Pan’s Labyrinth at the Oscars for Best Foreign Film. There’s much merit in its cold, calculated success.
The Namesake
2007 / Mira Nair > It’s a rare thing that celluloid beats its paper foundation, but The Namesake does just that. Personally, I’ve found Jhumpa Lahiri’s writing style to be better fitting for short stories, but maybe I’m biased: The first two-thirds of the novel deal with things I’ve personally experienced, while the third is fairly uncharted territory. For that, maybe Nair’s pacing fit me better.
The film itself is graceful, respectful, ignoring the stereotypes that often plague cinema that crosses cultural boundaries (and for this, both Lahiri and Nair ought to be credited). It’s not perfect, but it has enough universal identification that it should be able to appeal to most of who have a chance to view it. The only dubious factor with the film is Kal Penn being casted for the lead role: He does a suitable job, but it’s just hard to forget that this is Kumar we’re talking about. The rest is quite appropriate, with special note to Tabu’s performance as the beautiful, maturing mother who can make or break the viewer’s heart.
Reign Over Me
2007 / Mike Binder > In Reign Over Me, Binder continues displaying the skill of creating laughter in the face of tragedy he utilized so effectively in The Upside of Anger. And in doing so, he may have crafted one of the best films dealing with loss since The Sweet Hereafter, while taking an indirect approach towards 9/11 through a perspective that hasn’t yet been fully explored. Sandler is spot on, but Cheadle, as he so often does, steals the show as the man who you know has problems but just can’t face them. Sandler is his foil and while we see him transform, Cheadle follows suit ever so subtly. It has its slow moments and its awkward moments. It’s not brilliant, and it isn’t groundbreaking, but it has the kind of heart that one cannot often find in Hollywood these days.
Venus
2006 / Roger Michell > A performance worthy of an Oscar in most years, but just not this year. Unfortunately, that’s the luck that Peter O’Toole has had to deal with in his lifetime, having lost the golden statuette seven times (and an eighth maybe a week away). In Venus, he gives it all in a bittersweet performance where he undoubtedly reaches into his own experiences as an aging actor of great caliber. Hanif Kureishi’s stellar, understated script uplifts O’Toole and those around him, including a refreshing Jodie Whittaker as the young girl that turns the old actor’s life upside down.
Whatever awkward moments there are in Venus, by the end we find ourselves thinking that these emotions are byproducts of the mental processes shaped by society. From the perspective of someone who looks into the future and wonders what old age will bring, the film reassures that there’s no definite end to enjoyment and learning. Triggers are everywhere, and the soft and gentle presence of a young woman is enough to reinvigorate those at the end of the plank. It’s memorable and sweet, tasteful and delicate. One of the year’s best.
Stranger Than Fiction
2006 / Marc Forster > In the third film since his breakout Monster’s Ball, Forster once again takes his style and does a modest 90 degree turn, being only second to Winterbottom in diversity of his content and style. Here, Forster’s playing a game on two levels: In the very basic sense, Stranger Than Fiction is a tragicomedy that Ferrell himself does the best to figure out. But as an underlying, it ends up being a self-deprecatory piece of work about the medium of writing as well as audience expectations of films.
Strung at the hip by a surprisingly solid and poignant performance by Ferrell, the film touches base with quite a few obvious everyday philosophies (including a non-so-stubborn version of carpe diem) and turns them into something more solvent. It’s a great find and one of the best American films of 2006 (second only to The Departed in my count). It includes one of my favorite scenes of the year: I imagine it’ll warm your heart too when you see it. Also, watch out for writer Zach Helm, as this sets up a high bar for what may be a great career.
The Departed
2006 / Martin Scorsese > In short, The Departed is the best American film of the year, and the best work from Scorsese since Goodfellas. Whatever qualms one may have based on their positive experience with Infernal Affairs, these should be given less gravity due to the meticulous craftsmanship that Scorsese employs in his direction. The film is not perfect (which is a common ailment for most remakes), but isn’t so mostly because of certain personal preferences. It is, however, sharply written with an incisive comic pull and drenched in objective emotion.
The cast is flawless (so much so, that the film was recently awarded Best Ensemble of the year by the National Board of Review), with Leonardo DiCaprio giving what is perhaps his finest performance to date and worthy of an Oscar nomination. Mark Wahlberg gives the film an extra edge (and definitively separates it from the original), and Vera Farmiga is a promising, if delayed, discovery. The only weak spot seemed to be Martin Sheen, but that seems to be attributable to the script’s momentary weakness rather than the actor’s own abilities.
I found it fascinating how The Departed barely felt like Infernal Affairs. While hard not to continuously compare the two, there were more than enough fresh jolts in the Scorsese venture to take my mind away from the original. But as for the inevitable question of which is better, the honest truth, however sidestepping, is that they are different films with different styles based on an underlying idea that alone could not have made these the works of art that they are.