Greenberg

My friend Aleise and I both work from home so we’ve started doing a “floating office”. The other day when we closed up shop at Tea Spot we headed to the Angelika to see Greenberg, directed and written by Noah Baumbach, director of The Squid and the Whale.

Roger Greenberg is on a trip back to his hometown of LA after suffering a nervous breakdown in New York. In addition to reconnecting with old friends and bandmates, he begins an odd (to say the least) relationship with his brother’s personal assistant, Florence.

Roger and Florence are like each other’s inverted selves, so much so that they serve almost a character double helix, weaving in and out of each other in a confusion of what they want and what they think they want. While Roger is adamant about his desire to “do nothing” it is clear that in actuality his lack of success has embedded in him a deep self loathing which he attempts to abate by an artificial self-inflation and being a jerk to pretty much everyone. Meanwhile, Greta expresses admiration for his ability to do nothing and says she wishes she could feel comfortable doing the same while, in actuality, is seemingly quite happy with her easy, dead-end job and paired down life. More than anything, Greenberg is about the confusion of human desire, our tendency to try to deny our natures and the repercussions this reaps on our lives.

I was really looking forward to seeing this film and my expectations were still exceeded. Ben Stiller managed to… well, not seem like Ben Stiller (which, based on the movies I’ve seen him in before, is quite a feat). Roger Greenberg is so painfully, anxiously self aware (to the exclusion of everyone else) that you get sucked into his world view and find yourself squirming anxiously in your seat. It also begs that the academy add a category for Most Awkward Sex Scene of all Time, for which it would surely be a shoe-in.

The Ghost Writer

I actually had no idea what this movie was about before I went to see it. My girlfriend Keeli wanted to see it and I was game.

I can’t really give that deep of an analysis on this one because it was pretty much your standard political thriller type movie. Not a great film, but a lot of fun to watch. There were some impressive twists that I didn’t see coming. It felt very Hitchcock in its themes and execution. Definitely worth seeing, though you could probably be just as happy renting it as seeing it in the theatre.

The Runaways

Another viewing experience with my good friend Leah (only, unlike last time, the movie didn’t totally suck). We went to the AMC Lowes by my place on the Upper East Side.

First of all: Dakota Fanning, what the hell? When did you go through puberty? I swear to god she was 7 and following around a mentally disabled Sean Penn just a couple years ago. They sure do grow up fast. And congrats to Kristen Stewart for getting to be in something a little less (a lot less!) ridiculous than Twilight. I might actually sort of respect you now (sort of).

Basically your typical Rock ‘n’ Roll eye-candy movie, though lacking the craftsmanship of something like Velvet Goldmine. The decent into drugs and destruction seemed a little rushed to me (one minute we’re fine, occasionally drinking, the next we’re passed out in a phone booth, jacked up on god knows what). But hey, it’s a rock movie. My low expectations were actually exceeded.

A fun way to spend a Friday night. I definitely recommend this one.

Crazy Heart

Whoopsie! Okay, I’ll admit, I’m behind on the reviews. I’ve been seeing my movies but stressing out about the reviews. So let me knock off the last 3 in as succinct a manner as possible.

First, we have Crazy Heart. This was a beautiful movie (though I think this is thanks more to the location scout than the director). Both Jeff Bridges Maggie Gyllenhaal give  great performance. I was cringing with concern about how Maggie would handle the southern accent but, as a former Georgia resident, I can say she handles her drawl well.

Unfortunately, my enjoyment of the film was tainted. Basic plot outline: Aging boozer dude with long hair, used to be famous but now his career is fading, falls in love with younger woman (who has a kid), ultimately finds redemption in career when love can’t do the trick. Oh, and throw in being a dead beat dad who now wishes to reconnect with your grown up kid. Sound familiar? If you’ve seen The Wrestler then it should sound way too familiar.

It in’t that storied of this type are unusual, and certainly the wrestler wasn’t the first (any movie buffs out there want to give earlier examples?). But given that they were released only a year apart I find it irksome. And, frankly, The Wrestler (not to mention Mickey Rourke and Marisa Tomei) did a much better job.

Still, very much worth seeing: This movie is both melancholic and uplifting, a great choice for someone looking for a great emotional movie-going experience (especially if you haven’t seen The Wrestler yet).

The Art of the Steal

I’m not going to spend a lot of time on this one as I was pretty disappointed. I saw it at IFC, the first time I’ve gone to the same theatre twice during this project.

It isn’t that this film was bad: the directing was decent, though a little overly Ken Burns effect for my taste. The story is an interesting one. Unfortunately I just really disagreed with the filmmakers point of view. For those of you who haven’t heard about this movie: it’s a documentary about the famous Barnes Collection and the attempt, after Barnes’ death, to wrestle it from his private Pennsylvania mansion and get it into the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

Watching a bunch of richy-rich white professor types talk about the importance of keeping this amazing collection (including Cézanne, Picasso, Renoir, Degas, Manet, Monet and Van Gogh) tucked away in the Suburbs, unable to be accessed by the public at large, did not convert me to their cause in the least. Why should this amazing art be kept from the eyes of the masses? The tone of the piece is summed up for me in a scene where a be-tweeded art critic waving a sign over his head in a picket line in front of the museum yells “PHILISTINES!!” at passers-by. Yikes.

Still the film is filled with the beautiful art of the collection, which is stunning. It’s worth renting to see some of these masterpieces. I was thrilled to see some Modigliani’s I had never viewed before. But, if these people got what they wanted, 90% of people would never see it at all.

The Secret to My Success

Well I have been hardily remiss in posting my reviews though I have been seeing the films. So we’re posting a double feature of sorts today, first starting with the 1987 Michael J. Fox comedy The Secret to my Success.

I saw this a couple weeks ago at a screening to support the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s Research. While not shown in actual theatre, it was a public screening so I decided it counted.

The basic story is Michael J. Fox is trying to make his way up in the Big Apple and though he’s really only a mail clerk, he creates a high-powered-executive alter-ego. And of course this is all tied up with a love interest in a stylish skirt suit. Fox sports Larry King-chic, complete with suspenders.

Love was simpler in the 80′s: one chance encounter at a water fountain, a swell of smooth jazz as the camera does a close up on her plump, red lips sipping from the shooting stream of water, and BAM! True love blossoms.

This movie is pure 80′s New York kitsch, with that great fictional movie New York: in any street shot either absolutely everyone is in a suit and tie or absolutely everyone is some kind of sleazy hoodlum. The characters eat at diners with names like “Lox Around the Clock”, and first kisses happen on the Staten Island Ferry.

Apparently the “Oh Yeah” music from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off was the universal 80′s sexy music as it makes quite a few appearances in the film. Also dating the film is the fact that forcing someone to have sex with you is still considered romantic and the standard of beauty has changed as much as the prevalence of shoulder pads.

All around a funny, feel-good movie that you will no doubt be able to watch on TBS some rainy Saturday  soon.

Shutter Island

Last Friday I went to see Shutter Island on it’s first night running at BAM (the Brooklyn Academy of Music for you non-New Yorkers). I’ve been reading a lot of other people’s reviews of various films as I’ve been doing this project and have found a certain word that seems to pop-up a lot: reviewers seem to apply the seemingly unrevealing label of “ambitious” to many pictures. I think, after seeing Shutter Island, that I finally really grasp what that means.

My first qualm with the film is that it wasn’t presented properly in trailers and commercials. Check out this trailer for example. Now personally, I see that and I’m getting amped up for a horror movie: lots of thing popping out of dark closets and making me jump in my seat, a decent amount of gore, etc. But a horror movie this is not. You could call it, at most, a psychological thriller with a little more blood than usual. Think The Black Dahlia not Drag Me to Hell.

So if you can get past the disappointment of coming to see a horror movie and ending up with a slightly-bloody drama, the next obstacle in your way is those god-awful Boston accents. DiCaprio’s attempt at sounding like a Southie is only slightly better than the abortion Julianne Moore’s been delivering on 30 Rock while Michelle Williams is so bad she makes him sound like a native by comparison.

If you haven’t given up at this point you get to the “ambitious” part. There’s a potentially great story here, full of psychological bends and unexpected plot twists.  And, bad accents aside, this is a good cast (Ben Kingsley anyone?) and the cinematography is inventive and evocative. This could have been this decade’s Sixth Sense. But sadly Scorsese just doesn’t pull it off. By the time mysteries are revealed the audience isn’t thinking “What?!”, they’re thinking, “Yeah, alright, I get it.”

So, in the end, I’d say it’s worth a spot on your Netflix queue, but don’t kill yourself trying to get to the theatre for this one.

Hausu (House)

Wow. I am at a complete loss at how to review this incredible 1977 Japanese psychedelic horror movie. Let’s have a look at the poster to give you an idea:

I mean right?

This was directed by Nobuhiko Obayashi, his first full-length feature film. Previously he had primarily worked in commercials (tampon or Newport commercials if the film is any indicator). And who came up with the idea for the script? His 7-year-old daughter of course! Now add to this recipe a sprinkling of gore and a heavy dose of LSD and you get some idea.

It was terrible. It was maybe the best film I have ever seen. If you ever have  chance to see this movie GO DO IT. If you live in New York, IFC Center has extended its run another week. Hurry up and go!

My girlfriend Keeli and I went to a 9:55 showing and both agreed this would have been perfect for a rowdy midnight movie. There was definitely a lot of laughing out loud and people yelling “WHAT?!” but if everyone had been a little less sober it would have been perfect.

Since I fear I still haven’t done the film justice, have a look at the trailer:

Eyes Wide Open

So I actually saw Eyes Wide Open last Sunday but haven’t had time to review it. It was in New York as part of the New York Jewish Film Festival at Lincoln Center, which I missed. So I was really excited when I found out it was playing at Cinema Village. I went with my best friend Rocky.

If you’re at all familiar with homosexuality in film nothing about how this all turns out is going to come as a surprise to you. We’re still waiting for that gay happy ending. Well I guess there was A Beautiful Thing and But I’m a Cheerleader, but typically tragedy and/or violence (and almost always isolation) seem to abound in queer cinema.

Still, predictable or no, it was a beautiful film. Orthodox Jewish butcher Aaron is happy and devout, a community leader and family man. But when he falls for the young and studly Ezri the inhabitants of his neighborhood in Jerusalem aren’t exactly thrilled.

While slowly paced, the film is worth the wait. In particular I was enthralled by the belief that god presents us with horrible temptations as a blessing: only if we are so challenged can we overcome and do right. In this sense the desire to sin is actually a gift from god.

The Girl on the Train

Well, I suppose there comes a time in every new reviewer’s life when he or she must give a movie a poor review. So here goes…

The Girl on the Train is based on an actual occurrence in 2004 when Marie-Léonie Leblanc, a French 23 year old, faked being the victim of an anti-Semitic attack. Sounds like it’s going to be interesting right? But somehow André Téchiné manages to take a true story rife with possibility and turn it into a boring, 2 hour slog.

The lie about the attack is the only thing lifted from the actual events of 2004. To me, this should have been the meat of the story, but instead the lie and its aftermath are jammed into the last quarter of the film. Everything that comes before it is a slow, poorly-paced build where I imagine we were supposed to be getting a feeling for Jeanne (the Leblanc character) and the motives for her impending crime. But I, personally didn’t at all. I had no feeling for who this character was or why she felt compelled to perpetrate such a fraud.

The score was heavy handed. Dramatic and ominous, it continually eluded to an impending tragedy that never came. This serves as a good allegory for the film itself. As my friend Leah, who was watching the film with me, said: “Maybe French people think just having a boring life is tragedy enough”.

I have looked at some other reviews and a lot of critics think this is a great movie. Have any of you seen it? What did you think?

Thanks to Leah and Laura both for sitting through this with me (and for the burritos!). We saw this at Cinema 123. Check out my Theatre Map for the location.