By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
Having been amply hyped, anticipated, and adored, but also shrouded in controversy, “The Hunger Games” is on everyone’s mind. For good reason, too. This is a really interesting story. It is exciting, disturbing and thought provoking, and I cannot wait to see the next one.
In “The Hunger Games”, hungry children fight to the death. These children don’t fight over food, resources or territory. They don’t fight because their parents are at war with each other. These children don’t have any reason whatsoever to dislike each other, and they wouldn’t normally inflict serious harm on others. They are kids, after all.
The children in “The Hunger Games” fight and kill each other because they are forced to do so by the ruling elite. They are forced to fight for sport—to amuse the wealthy—as some sort of sick punishment for a past rebellion that they played no part in.
Each year one boy and one girl—mostly teens and preteens—are randomly selected from each of 12 districts to compete in The Hunger Games. Those selected are brought to the Capitol, paraded around for the amusement of thousands of obnoxious spectators, and then pitted against each other in a battle royal. This brutal competition takes place in a giant arena that is designed to look like some natural environment, but which is controlled and manipulated at every turn. The child gladiators go into the arena empty handed, but they have a chance to pick up weapons and supplies along the way. The rules are simple: the last one living wins. Everyone else dies.
“The Hunger Games” is mostly about the contestants from District 12. District 12 usually has a hard time of it. They are the poorest and least equipped to fight in The Hunger Games. So they usually lose. However, this year is different. Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence), a bright teenage girl and talented archer, volunteers to fight for district 12 in order to protect her little sister, who was originally selected. Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) joins Katniss as the other District 12 representative. They, unlike their predecessors, are formidable contestants.
Katniss and Peeta are of course disgusted by the competition, and they are terribly afraid. But they have no choice but to play along with the pageantry of their oppressors and hope for the best. They work hard to prepare, and so they are cautiously optimistic.
When the day comes—that is, when the battle begins—Katniss and Peeta each have their own strategies. Katniss dashes into hiding. Her strategy is to evade the others while they pick each other off. Peeta, on the other hand, joins a pack of brawny kids who slaughter the weakest of their foes. Eventually, when only a few competitors remain after days of frantic struggle, Katniss and Peeta are reunited. They are bruised and bloodied, but still alive. One of them could win it all, but in order to survive, they have to work together and defeat kids that are bigger and stronger than they. And when a twist is thrown their way, they have to be ready.
What a cool story. Right? A lot of people are upset by this movie’s depiction of violence to children. And there is no doubt about it: “The Hunger Games” is unsettling. Whether it is a little girl being hacked to death by a sword or a boy having his neck snapped by another boy, there is no denying that this movie is gruesome and disturbing. I guess that’s part of the point, though. We should be bothered by the movie. And we should think about why it is bothersome, too. Otherwise, aren’t we just like the hoards of mindless spectators in the movie who only care about feeling good and being entertained?
There are many virtues of this film. The acting is quite good. The pace keeps you on the edge of your seat the whole way through. The cinematography is captivating, the costumes are fantastic, the editing is great, and so on. There is a lot to recommend here.
But really, “The Hunger Games” is all about the story. It is rich and complex; its premise is novel, but it also taps into some pretty deep, age-old themes. I haven’t read the books yet. I think I ought to.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Thursday, March 1, 2012
"The Secret World of Arrietty"
By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
Imagine dancing on leaves. Imagine running between mountainous rocks while dodging grasshoppers twice your size. Imagine tiptoeing through a cupboard and then climbing atop a blender so that you can dash across a countertop and snatch a sugar cube that is as big as your head. Imagine all of that. That is “The Secret World of Arrietty”. This animated film is rich and complex. It is a movie about action and adventure, but it also has a mysterious subtlety.
Arrietty Clock (Bridgit Mendler) is a 14-year-old girl. Like many girls her age, Arrietty is bright, energetic and curious. She likes the things that most kids like, such as toys, plants and animals; but, like most kids, she is also dying to grow up. Arrietty may be a bit bold and adventurous for her own good, but otherwise she is pretty normal.
Well, except for the fact that she is roughly four inches tall. Arrietty is smaller than a mouse—no bigger than a worn-down pencil. You get the picture: Arrietty could fit in your front pocket. Indeed, the whole Clock family—Arrietty plus her mom and dad—could fit in your pocket.
The Clocks are borrowers, which means they are tiny people who borrow things from big people. Borrowers actually just take things, to be honest—things such as food, sugar, tissue paper, or whatever else they need—but they take just enough to live on, and never so much that the big people notice. After all, no borrower wants to be greedy, and no borrower wants to be noticed by the big people.
Arrietty and her family are a particularly happy bunch of borrowers. They live in a comfortable house, complete with miniature rooms, furniture and appliances, underneath the home of a family that seems to be wonderfully oblivious to the borrowers’ presence.
That is, until Arrietty is spotted by Shawn (David Henrie). Shawn is a sick boy who ends up in Arrietty’s neck of the woods because he needs rest before undergoing a dangerous operation. He catches sight of Arrietty on a couple of occasions, but somehow Shawn is neither surprised nor dismayed to see a four-inch teenage girl running around the house.
This is odd. Arrietty is a miniature person! But Shawn acts as if he always in such stuff of childish fairytales. Shawn is not the only one, either. Despite their lack of evidence, all of the big people seem to be open to the idea that borrowers exist. Odd indeed.
Some of the big people—Shawn, for instance—want to befriend the borrowers. Others want it to be true that borrowers exist, but are not interested in finding out about them. And others only want to hunt down, dominate, and maybe even kill Arrietty and her family.
Arrietty is caught in the middle. On the one hand, she wants to talk to and interact with Shawn; she wants to learn more about other people, big or small. On the other hand, Arrietty does not want to expose, and thereby endanger, her family. If Arrietty wants to learn more about the world around her, she has to take some risks. But if she wants to protect those she loves, she must sacrifice other, potentially meaningful relationships.
“The Secret World of Arrietty” is an eerily beautiful story. Each of the characters is puzzling yet intoxicating. Arrietty is drawn to danger in some strange and disquieting way, but at the same time, her spirit is unbreakable and inspirational. Shawn is sensitive and compassionate—he really cares for other people—yet he is remarkably stony when it comes to his own livelihood. Arrietty’s dad, Pod (Will Arnett), is quiet and unresponsive, yet dripping with careful adoration of his family.
These characters are subtle and interesting. Their story is captivating in surprising ways. This is a paradoxical movie—it is both simple and complex. There is a lot to say about it and for it, I think. There is also a lot that cannot be said about it. Sometimes you just have to see it.
Coastal View News
Imagine dancing on leaves. Imagine running between mountainous rocks while dodging grasshoppers twice your size. Imagine tiptoeing through a cupboard and then climbing atop a blender so that you can dash across a countertop and snatch a sugar cube that is as big as your head. Imagine all of that. That is “The Secret World of Arrietty”. This animated film is rich and complex. It is a movie about action and adventure, but it also has a mysterious subtlety.
Arrietty Clock (Bridgit Mendler) is a 14-year-old girl. Like many girls her age, Arrietty is bright, energetic and curious. She likes the things that most kids like, such as toys, plants and animals; but, like most kids, she is also dying to grow up. Arrietty may be a bit bold and adventurous for her own good, but otherwise she is pretty normal.
Well, except for the fact that she is roughly four inches tall. Arrietty is smaller than a mouse—no bigger than a worn-down pencil. You get the picture: Arrietty could fit in your front pocket. Indeed, the whole Clock family—Arrietty plus her mom and dad—could fit in your pocket.
The Clocks are borrowers, which means they are tiny people who borrow things from big people. Borrowers actually just take things, to be honest—things such as food, sugar, tissue paper, or whatever else they need—but they take just enough to live on, and never so much that the big people notice. After all, no borrower wants to be greedy, and no borrower wants to be noticed by the big people.
Arrietty and her family are a particularly happy bunch of borrowers. They live in a comfortable house, complete with miniature rooms, furniture and appliances, underneath the home of a family that seems to be wonderfully oblivious to the borrowers’ presence.
That is, until Arrietty is spotted by Shawn (David Henrie). Shawn is a sick boy who ends up in Arrietty’s neck of the woods because he needs rest before undergoing a dangerous operation. He catches sight of Arrietty on a couple of occasions, but somehow Shawn is neither surprised nor dismayed to see a four-inch teenage girl running around the house.
This is odd. Arrietty is a miniature person! But Shawn acts as if he always in such stuff of childish fairytales. Shawn is not the only one, either. Despite their lack of evidence, all of the big people seem to be open to the idea that borrowers exist. Odd indeed.
Some of the big people—Shawn, for instance—want to befriend the borrowers. Others want it to be true that borrowers exist, but are not interested in finding out about them. And others only want to hunt down, dominate, and maybe even kill Arrietty and her family.
Arrietty is caught in the middle. On the one hand, she wants to talk to and interact with Shawn; she wants to learn more about other people, big or small. On the other hand, Arrietty does not want to expose, and thereby endanger, her family. If Arrietty wants to learn more about the world around her, she has to take some risks. But if she wants to protect those she loves, she must sacrifice other, potentially meaningful relationships.
“The Secret World of Arrietty” is an eerily beautiful story. Each of the characters is puzzling yet intoxicating. Arrietty is drawn to danger in some strange and disquieting way, but at the same time, her spirit is unbreakable and inspirational. Shawn is sensitive and compassionate—he really cares for other people—yet he is remarkably stony when it comes to his own livelihood. Arrietty’s dad, Pod (Will Arnett), is quiet and unresponsive, yet dripping with careful adoration of his family.
These characters are subtle and interesting. Their story is captivating in surprising ways. This is a paradoxical movie—it is both simple and complex. There is a lot to say about it and for it, I think. There is also a lot that cannot be said about it. Sometimes you just have to see it.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
"The Artist"
By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
Today the norm in Hollywood is for stories to be told with a thick veneer of the latest computer generated graphics, images, and sound effects; an elaborate set and wardrobe; and a smattering of quick shots of actors dodging bullets and diving away from enormous explosions. Well-told, insightful stories aren’t always successful at the box office, but big budget, action extravaganzas usually are. “The Artist” tries to subvert that norm. And its success in doing so is part of what makes the movie so interesting and refreshing.
“The Artist” is a (mostly) silent film about silent films. Of course, “The Artist” is also about an artist—a silent film actor, to be precise. His name is George Valentin (Jean Dujardin), and he is the pinnacle of what Hollywood used to be. He dodges his on-screen enemies, woos the ladies, and helps the less fortunate. He injects excitement, drama, sorrow, and humor into his films, all with a distinctive bravado that makes him a fan favorite. Oh yeah, and he does it all without saying a word.
Valentin is a star, but he’s also an alright guy. Sure, he’s a bit conceited and egotistical. But he’s also loyal and caring. He really enjoys boosting his audiences’ spirits when he can, and, like many of the characters he plays, Valentin is also willing to help out those in need.
A case in point is Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo). Miller, who is in fact peppier than peppy, starts out as a nobody. She’s just an average moviegoer who dreams of being a star. She wants to sing, dance, act, perform, or whatever, just so long as it’s on the big screen. But of course wanting an acting gig and getting an acting gig are two very different things.
It is just lucky for Miller that she manages to catch Valentin’s eye. At first Valentin is caught off guard by Miller. He finds her mesmerizing, but he doesn’t know how to react to her subtle yet intoxicating charm. So what Valentin does is help Miller out. He teaches her how to stand out in a crowd of other actresses, he keeps up with her work, and he defends her to his producers.
And it works. Before long, Peppy Miller is one of the biggest stars in Hollywood. Her movies get rave reviews, sometimes before they are even released. Valentin’s role in Miller’s success cannot be denied; however, another part of her success has to do with her enthusiastic willingness to act in hip, newfangled non-silent movies called “talkies”. People love the silent Peppy Miller, but they love the talking, laughing, singing Peppy Miller even more.
Valentin, on the other hand, is stuck in the past. He refuses to act in talkies. The result is that the guy everyone loves quickly becomes the guy no one cares about. Valentin must adapt or be axed. And Miller has to find a way to remain true to Valentin and her roots while also remaining on the cutting edge of cinema.
“The Artist” has a wonderfully nostalgic feel. Most of us weren’t alive when silent films were still being made, and yet, there is still something familiar about this movie and its subject matter. It evokes a rich historical current that we somehow know about—a current that courses through the movies we watched two decades ago, two years ago, or even just two days ago.
This feel is not just a yen for older, simpler times. What “The Artist” brings out is an intricate interplay between past and present artistic media. This interplay involves values, styles, sensibilities, and tastes that are vastly different, and yet, profoundly bound up together. This thing that “The Artist” does allows us to appreciate the genesis of film while also making us aware of the kinds of choices that make film what it is today.
“The Artist” is also a reminder that there is more to a good movie than computer graphics, blinding action sequences, and forceful one-liners. There is more to good acting than delivering a line, there is more to writing a good screenplay than putting in twists after twist, there is more to good editing than moving the action along as quickly as possible, and there is more to good movies than box office receipts. A movie can be really good without the latest special effects, or indeed, without any special effects. Or, as “The Artist” shows, a movie can be really good without any witty dialogue, or indeed, without any dialogue at all.
Coastal View News
Today the norm in Hollywood is for stories to be told with a thick veneer of the latest computer generated graphics, images, and sound effects; an elaborate set and wardrobe; and a smattering of quick shots of actors dodging bullets and diving away from enormous explosions. Well-told, insightful stories aren’t always successful at the box office, but big budget, action extravaganzas usually are. “The Artist” tries to subvert that norm. And its success in doing so is part of what makes the movie so interesting and refreshing.
“The Artist” is a (mostly) silent film about silent films. Of course, “The Artist” is also about an artist—a silent film actor, to be precise. His name is George Valentin (Jean Dujardin), and he is the pinnacle of what Hollywood used to be. He dodges his on-screen enemies, woos the ladies, and helps the less fortunate. He injects excitement, drama, sorrow, and humor into his films, all with a distinctive bravado that makes him a fan favorite. Oh yeah, and he does it all without saying a word.
Valentin is a star, but he’s also an alright guy. Sure, he’s a bit conceited and egotistical. But he’s also loyal and caring. He really enjoys boosting his audiences’ spirits when he can, and, like many of the characters he plays, Valentin is also willing to help out those in need.
A case in point is Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo). Miller, who is in fact peppier than peppy, starts out as a nobody. She’s just an average moviegoer who dreams of being a star. She wants to sing, dance, act, perform, or whatever, just so long as it’s on the big screen. But of course wanting an acting gig and getting an acting gig are two very different things.
It is just lucky for Miller that she manages to catch Valentin’s eye. At first Valentin is caught off guard by Miller. He finds her mesmerizing, but he doesn’t know how to react to her subtle yet intoxicating charm. So what Valentin does is help Miller out. He teaches her how to stand out in a crowd of other actresses, he keeps up with her work, and he defends her to his producers.
And it works. Before long, Peppy Miller is one of the biggest stars in Hollywood. Her movies get rave reviews, sometimes before they are even released. Valentin’s role in Miller’s success cannot be denied; however, another part of her success has to do with her enthusiastic willingness to act in hip, newfangled non-silent movies called “talkies”. People love the silent Peppy Miller, but they love the talking, laughing, singing Peppy Miller even more.
Valentin, on the other hand, is stuck in the past. He refuses to act in talkies. The result is that the guy everyone loves quickly becomes the guy no one cares about. Valentin must adapt or be axed. And Miller has to find a way to remain true to Valentin and her roots while also remaining on the cutting edge of cinema.
“The Artist” has a wonderfully nostalgic feel. Most of us weren’t alive when silent films were still being made, and yet, there is still something familiar about this movie and its subject matter. It evokes a rich historical current that we somehow know about—a current that courses through the movies we watched two decades ago, two years ago, or even just two days ago.
This feel is not just a yen for older, simpler times. What “The Artist” brings out is an intricate interplay between past and present artistic media. This interplay involves values, styles, sensibilities, and tastes that are vastly different, and yet, profoundly bound up together. This thing that “The Artist” does allows us to appreciate the genesis of film while also making us aware of the kinds of choices that make film what it is today.
“The Artist” is also a reminder that there is more to a good movie than computer graphics, blinding action sequences, and forceful one-liners. There is more to good acting than delivering a line, there is more to writing a good screenplay than putting in twists after twist, there is more to good editing than moving the action along as quickly as possible, and there is more to good movies than box office receipts. A movie can be really good without the latest special effects, or indeed, without any special effects. Or, as “The Artist” shows, a movie can be really good without any witty dialogue, or indeed, without any dialogue at all.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
"Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol"
By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
Tom Cruise’s mission is to delay the demise of the “Mission Impossible” series. To succeed, he must take on the identity of agent Ethan Hunt of the Impossible Mission Force (IMF) and thereby draw people into, and eventually onto the edge of, theater seats across the globe. If his mission fails, critics, film studios, and moviegoers will disavow the once-celebrated actor—they will act as if (or continue to act as if) he doesn’t exist. If he succeeds, on the other hand, agent Ethan Hunt and the “Mission Impossible” series may live to see another release.
Cruise, who continues to accept this mission without batting an eyelash, may have pulled it off again. Somehow, even though the latest movie—“Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol”—is fairly uninventive compared to the rest of the series, it has managed to secured the approval of countless critics and audiences.
In this movie, Hunt is directed to stop insane terrorist Kurt Hendricks (Michael Nyqvist) from securing Russia’s nuclear launch codes. This top-secret mission is as dangerous as any that he has ever been on. And, as always, Hunt knows that if something goes wrong with the job, the IMF and the U. S. government will disavow him. That is, if the mission is botched, bungled, sabotaged or otherwise fails, there is no backup plan—the U. S. will just pretend that he does not exist or else will accuse him of going rogue.
Luckily, Hunt has at his disposal a team of highly trained agents, including tech genius, Benji Dunn (Simon Pegg), and misleadingly dangerous bombshell, Jane Carter (Paula Patton). The team quickly puts together an ingenious plan to break into the Kremlin and get their hands on information that is vital to stopping Hendricks. Even though they are doing the impossible—slipping past countless armed guards and hacking into impenetrable computer systems, for example—it looks like business as usual for the IMF.
But then the whole thing falls apart. Despite the team’s training, skill, and nifty gadgets, Hendricks swoops in to nab the crucial data, elude Hunt and his team, and then set off a massive bomb inside the Kremlin. The mission is a disaster.
And what’s even worse is that the bombing gets pinned on the IMF. This triggers ‘Ghost Protocol’: the dissolution and disavowal of Hunt, his team, and indeed, the entire IMF. Hunt and his team are left with scant resources, very few friends, and hardly any hope. So the team, together with the help of analyst William Brandt (Jeremy Renner), decides that their only option is to catch and expose Hendricks and thereby vindicate the IMF.
However, Hendricks proves to be a worthy adversary. He is rich, clever, and highly motivated by a desire to wipe out the human race via nuclear holocaust. In contrast, Hunt and his team are hampered by their lack of resources, as well as infighting and emotional scars from past missions. This time, whether the former IMF agents can stop an unprecedented disaster depends not so much on their technology or even their cleverness, but rather on their gritty determination.
A lot of people really liked “Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol”. I was not one of them. This movie is entertaining, and certain of its action sequences are definitely fun to watch. However, I have a hard time seeing what this movie adds to the “Mission Impossible” series. The plot is old and tired, the stunts are familiar, and most of the gadgets that Hunt and his team use are only slight modifications on gadgets that were used in previous “Mission Impossible” movies. Even the enemy (a Russian terrorist) is an antiquated homage to spy villains of previous decades.
That is not to say that “Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol” is not amusing or entertaining. A movie can be entertaining without being innovative. Just don’t expect anything new.
Coastal View News
Tom Cruise’s mission is to delay the demise of the “Mission Impossible” series. To succeed, he must take on the identity of agent Ethan Hunt of the Impossible Mission Force (IMF) and thereby draw people into, and eventually onto the edge of, theater seats across the globe. If his mission fails, critics, film studios, and moviegoers will disavow the once-celebrated actor—they will act as if (or continue to act as if) he doesn’t exist. If he succeeds, on the other hand, agent Ethan Hunt and the “Mission Impossible” series may live to see another release.
Cruise, who continues to accept this mission without batting an eyelash, may have pulled it off again. Somehow, even though the latest movie—“Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol”—is fairly uninventive compared to the rest of the series, it has managed to secured the approval of countless critics and audiences.
In this movie, Hunt is directed to stop insane terrorist Kurt Hendricks (Michael Nyqvist) from securing Russia’s nuclear launch codes. This top-secret mission is as dangerous as any that he has ever been on. And, as always, Hunt knows that if something goes wrong with the job, the IMF and the U. S. government will disavow him. That is, if the mission is botched, bungled, sabotaged or otherwise fails, there is no backup plan—the U. S. will just pretend that he does not exist or else will accuse him of going rogue.
Luckily, Hunt has at his disposal a team of highly trained agents, including tech genius, Benji Dunn (Simon Pegg), and misleadingly dangerous bombshell, Jane Carter (Paula Patton). The team quickly puts together an ingenious plan to break into the Kremlin and get their hands on information that is vital to stopping Hendricks. Even though they are doing the impossible—slipping past countless armed guards and hacking into impenetrable computer systems, for example—it looks like business as usual for the IMF.
But then the whole thing falls apart. Despite the team’s training, skill, and nifty gadgets, Hendricks swoops in to nab the crucial data, elude Hunt and his team, and then set off a massive bomb inside the Kremlin. The mission is a disaster.
And what’s even worse is that the bombing gets pinned on the IMF. This triggers ‘Ghost Protocol’: the dissolution and disavowal of Hunt, his team, and indeed, the entire IMF. Hunt and his team are left with scant resources, very few friends, and hardly any hope. So the team, together with the help of analyst William Brandt (Jeremy Renner), decides that their only option is to catch and expose Hendricks and thereby vindicate the IMF.
However, Hendricks proves to be a worthy adversary. He is rich, clever, and highly motivated by a desire to wipe out the human race via nuclear holocaust. In contrast, Hunt and his team are hampered by their lack of resources, as well as infighting and emotional scars from past missions. This time, whether the former IMF agents can stop an unprecedented disaster depends not so much on their technology or even their cleverness, but rather on their gritty determination.
A lot of people really liked “Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol”. I was not one of them. This movie is entertaining, and certain of its action sequences are definitely fun to watch. However, I have a hard time seeing what this movie adds to the “Mission Impossible” series. The plot is old and tired, the stunts are familiar, and most of the gadgets that Hunt and his team use are only slight modifications on gadgets that were used in previous “Mission Impossible” movies. Even the enemy (a Russian terrorist) is an antiquated homage to spy villains of previous decades.
That is not to say that “Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol” is not amusing or entertaining. A movie can be entertaining without being innovative. Just don’t expect anything new.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
"Melancholia"
By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
At the 2009 Cannes Film Festival, Lars von Trier claimed that he is the best film director in the world. As is the case with many of his comments, and indeed, with many of his films, it is not always clear when von Trier wants us to take him seriously. However, “Melancholia” is worth taking seriously. It is dark, depressing, and pessimistic, but really good.
Most of the first half of “Melancholia” is set amid a beautiful wedding reception at a high-end country club. This is where people are meant to be happy—especially Justine (Kirsten Dunst), who is a beautiful young bride with a loving husband, lots of money, and her whole life ahead of her. But on this, the ‘happiest’ day of her life, Justine is not glowing.
In fact, she can barely eke out a smile. Justine’s gloom is not caused by a subpar reception (it’s actually magnificent) or misbehaving guests (though some do misbehave). Nor is it that her husband (Alexander Skarsgard) is a disappointment. Justine’s melancholy is objectless, aimless—without cause or merit. She is simply depressed.
This makes Justine’s sister, Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg), anxious. Along with her husband (Kiefer Sutherland), Claire is responsible for making sure that Justine’s wedding reception goes well. However, as Justine frowns, withdraws, and even disappears for long stretches of time, Claire gets wrapped up in her sister’s depression, and this triggers her own deep-seated fears, anxieties, and panic.
Although Justine and Claire’s mental sludge is not directed at any particular object, they certainly do have reason to be afraid. For, while all of the decadence and apparent celebration is going on, a planet called ‘Melancholia’ is hurtling toward earth. This planet had been hiding behind the sun, but now it is rearing its ugly head, and threatening to destroy all earthly life. As Justine, Claire, and their family members come to terms with the possibility of annihilation, they think about the significance of their lives and reflect on the state of nature.
“Melancholia” is about depression, anxiety, human nature, and the relationship between humans and nature. Like most of von Trier’s work, it is deeply and thoroughly pessimistic. Some movies are about the cruelty of nature. Other movies are about the frailty of the human psyche. Still others are about the viciousness of human nature. Von Trier is perhaps unique in that he ties all of these dark elements together; he produces a worldview whereby there is no hope, no goodness, no redemption. It seems that, for von Trier, this is not a gruesome manipulation of the facts, nor is it a horrible fantasy; rather, it’s just the way things are.
Von Trier, who has been open about the fact that he himself suffers from (sometimes crippling) depression, does a remarkable job filling the theater with his moods. The weight of Justine’s depression is palpable—almost suffocating. And von Trier makes sure to cast this shadow over the audience in a variety of ways. Sometimes his work is subtle, and sometimes it’s shocking, but it is nearly always tangible and interesting.
Some have rightly criticized von Trier and his movies. He likes to stir the pot, both in public and on-screen, and sometimes this comes across as overly abstruse, obscene, and even a bit foolish. At his worst, von Trier is a jester—a producer of nonsense. But at his best, he is a genius.
Maybe Lars von Trier is right—maybe he is the best film director in the world. I think otherwise. But I also think that von Trier’s brilliance is very rare. His use of cinematography and other effects is masterful; there are few other living filmmakers who even come close on this score. And, although von Trier continues to be interested in only certain themes, he handles them with nearly unparalleled deftness. “Melancholia” may not be enjoyable at every turn, but it’s a really good movie and an impressive artistic achievement.
Coastal View News
At the 2009 Cannes Film Festival, Lars von Trier claimed that he is the best film director in the world. As is the case with many of his comments, and indeed, with many of his films, it is not always clear when von Trier wants us to take him seriously. However, “Melancholia” is worth taking seriously. It is dark, depressing, and pessimistic, but really good.
Most of the first half of “Melancholia” is set amid a beautiful wedding reception at a high-end country club. This is where people are meant to be happy—especially Justine (Kirsten Dunst), who is a beautiful young bride with a loving husband, lots of money, and her whole life ahead of her. But on this, the ‘happiest’ day of her life, Justine is not glowing.
In fact, she can barely eke out a smile. Justine’s gloom is not caused by a subpar reception (it’s actually magnificent) or misbehaving guests (though some do misbehave). Nor is it that her husband (Alexander Skarsgard) is a disappointment. Justine’s melancholy is objectless, aimless—without cause or merit. She is simply depressed.
This makes Justine’s sister, Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg), anxious. Along with her husband (Kiefer Sutherland), Claire is responsible for making sure that Justine’s wedding reception goes well. However, as Justine frowns, withdraws, and even disappears for long stretches of time, Claire gets wrapped up in her sister’s depression, and this triggers her own deep-seated fears, anxieties, and panic.
Although Justine and Claire’s mental sludge is not directed at any particular object, they certainly do have reason to be afraid. For, while all of the decadence and apparent celebration is going on, a planet called ‘Melancholia’ is hurtling toward earth. This planet had been hiding behind the sun, but now it is rearing its ugly head, and threatening to destroy all earthly life. As Justine, Claire, and their family members come to terms with the possibility of annihilation, they think about the significance of their lives and reflect on the state of nature.
“Melancholia” is about depression, anxiety, human nature, and the relationship between humans and nature. Like most of von Trier’s work, it is deeply and thoroughly pessimistic. Some movies are about the cruelty of nature. Other movies are about the frailty of the human psyche. Still others are about the viciousness of human nature. Von Trier is perhaps unique in that he ties all of these dark elements together; he produces a worldview whereby there is no hope, no goodness, no redemption. It seems that, for von Trier, this is not a gruesome manipulation of the facts, nor is it a horrible fantasy; rather, it’s just the way things are.
Von Trier, who has been open about the fact that he himself suffers from (sometimes crippling) depression, does a remarkable job filling the theater with his moods. The weight of Justine’s depression is palpable—almost suffocating. And von Trier makes sure to cast this shadow over the audience in a variety of ways. Sometimes his work is subtle, and sometimes it’s shocking, but it is nearly always tangible and interesting.
Some have rightly criticized von Trier and his movies. He likes to stir the pot, both in public and on-screen, and sometimes this comes across as overly abstruse, obscene, and even a bit foolish. At his worst, von Trier is a jester—a producer of nonsense. But at his best, he is a genius.
Maybe Lars von Trier is right—maybe he is the best film director in the world. I think otherwise. But I also think that von Trier’s brilliance is very rare. His use of cinematography and other effects is masterful; there are few other living filmmakers who even come close on this score. And, although von Trier continues to be interested in only certain themes, he handles them with nearly unparalleled deftness. “Melancholia” may not be enjoyable at every turn, but it’s a really good movie and an impressive artistic achievement.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
"The Ides of March"
By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
On the ides of March, in 44 B. C. E., Julius Caesar was literally stabbed in the back by his political rivals. This story should sound familiar. That is, whether you know your history, have read any Shakespeare, or just hear about Congress every now and then, this story should sound familiar. So maybe it is surprising that “The Ides of March”, George Clooney’s new political thriller, is exciting, fresh, intriguing, and yes, even original. This movie plays on a lot of familiar themes, but it does this with a certain style—a 21st-century twist, if you will—that makes it feel contemporary and relevant.
“The Ides of March” is about the race for public office. Governor Mike Morris of Pennsylvania (George Clooney) is the ideal Presidential candidate. He is smart, good-looking, and well-spoken. He has ideas, and he knows how to communicate them. What’s more, Morris has his finger on the pulse of the country; he knows what people want, and he has something to say about how to give it to them.
But Morris needs Paul Zara (Philip Seymour Hoffman), who is his campaign manager and closest ally. Zara’s experience and political skills are legendary—he is a campaign guru—and his loyalty to Morris is absolutely unshakeable. Indeed, he would quit his job, jump off a bridge, or even shake hands with a Republican before betraying his candidate’s trust.
These characters are easily recognizable, not because they are overly flat or clichéd, but because they know what they stand for, they are consistent, they have their ideas all worked out, and they refuse to give in to the opposition.
Stephen Meyers (Ryan Gosling), Morris’ second-in-command, is somewhat of a different story. He is complicated. Meyers is young, idealistic, and motivated by the hope for a better future. But he is also clever, conniving, and willing to do whatever it takes to win. Meyers thinks that principles like loyalty, honesty, and goodness are important, but he also thinks that (sometimes) the ends justify the means.
As far as Morris’ campaign goes, it looks like it will all come down to Ohio. Meyers and Zara work the phones, talk to supporters, write stump speeches, direct interns—they do everything they can to make sure their guy comes out on top. And it’s working; Morris’ prospects look great.
Rather, Morris’ prospects looked great; that is, until Ohio Republicans conspire to vote for Morris’ Democratic opponent, who is less likely than Morris to win the general election. With this plan in motion, Morris’ hefty lead quickly vanishes. The campaign reaches a fever pitch as everyone scrambles to make the big move that will push Morris over the top.
However, as tensions rise, strategies that were once off the table slide back on the table. Even Meyers, who spews idealism, begins to consider uncouth options—he starts to peer down dark alleys and into smoky back rooms—in order to get his candidate into office. But Meyers is disgusted by what he sees; he is not sure that he can do what it takes to get the job done. For the young, cocksure strategist learns that his intelligence and hard work are not enough to succeed in politics. Meyers learns that he has to get down in the muck, or else hit the showers.
“The Ides of March” is a really good political thriller. Sure, it covers the usual bases: back room deals, betrayal, corruption, tireless stumping, and the byproducts of power. This sort of story, as we know, is as old as Julius Caesar. Nevertheless, this movie is exciting and interesting; it really makes you wonder what is coming next. It’s surprising.
What is not so surprising is that George Clooney, Ryan Gosling, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Paul Giamatti, and Evan Rachel Wood really play their parts well. So well, in fact, that it seems like they actually could succeed as politicians, aides, or strategists. Clooney, who also directs and co-writes “The Ides of March”, really accomplishes a lot here. He makes us think, reflect, and weigh our own values, and he does this without jamming an overwrought message down our throats. And that’s worth watching.
Coastal View News
On the ides of March, in 44 B. C. E., Julius Caesar was literally stabbed in the back by his political rivals. This story should sound familiar. That is, whether you know your history, have read any Shakespeare, or just hear about Congress every now and then, this story should sound familiar. So maybe it is surprising that “The Ides of March”, George Clooney’s new political thriller, is exciting, fresh, intriguing, and yes, even original. This movie plays on a lot of familiar themes, but it does this with a certain style—a 21st-century twist, if you will—that makes it feel contemporary and relevant.
“The Ides of March” is about the race for public office. Governor Mike Morris of Pennsylvania (George Clooney) is the ideal Presidential candidate. He is smart, good-looking, and well-spoken. He has ideas, and he knows how to communicate them. What’s more, Morris has his finger on the pulse of the country; he knows what people want, and he has something to say about how to give it to them.
But Morris needs Paul Zara (Philip Seymour Hoffman), who is his campaign manager and closest ally. Zara’s experience and political skills are legendary—he is a campaign guru—and his loyalty to Morris is absolutely unshakeable. Indeed, he would quit his job, jump off a bridge, or even shake hands with a Republican before betraying his candidate’s trust.
These characters are easily recognizable, not because they are overly flat or clichéd, but because they know what they stand for, they are consistent, they have their ideas all worked out, and they refuse to give in to the opposition.
Stephen Meyers (Ryan Gosling), Morris’ second-in-command, is somewhat of a different story. He is complicated. Meyers is young, idealistic, and motivated by the hope for a better future. But he is also clever, conniving, and willing to do whatever it takes to win. Meyers thinks that principles like loyalty, honesty, and goodness are important, but he also thinks that (sometimes) the ends justify the means.
As far as Morris’ campaign goes, it looks like it will all come down to Ohio. Meyers and Zara work the phones, talk to supporters, write stump speeches, direct interns—they do everything they can to make sure their guy comes out on top. And it’s working; Morris’ prospects look great.
Rather, Morris’ prospects looked great; that is, until Ohio Republicans conspire to vote for Morris’ Democratic opponent, who is less likely than Morris to win the general election. With this plan in motion, Morris’ hefty lead quickly vanishes. The campaign reaches a fever pitch as everyone scrambles to make the big move that will push Morris over the top.
However, as tensions rise, strategies that were once off the table slide back on the table. Even Meyers, who spews idealism, begins to consider uncouth options—he starts to peer down dark alleys and into smoky back rooms—in order to get his candidate into office. But Meyers is disgusted by what he sees; he is not sure that he can do what it takes to get the job done. For the young, cocksure strategist learns that his intelligence and hard work are not enough to succeed in politics. Meyers learns that he has to get down in the muck, or else hit the showers.
“The Ides of March” is a really good political thriller. Sure, it covers the usual bases: back room deals, betrayal, corruption, tireless stumping, and the byproducts of power. This sort of story, as we know, is as old as Julius Caesar. Nevertheless, this movie is exciting and interesting; it really makes you wonder what is coming next. It’s surprising.
What is not so surprising is that George Clooney, Ryan Gosling, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Paul Giamatti, and Evan Rachel Wood really play their parts well. So well, in fact, that it seems like they actually could succeed as politicians, aides, or strategists. Clooney, who also directs and co-writes “The Ides of March”, really accomplishes a lot here. He makes us think, reflect, and weigh our own values, and he does this without jamming an overwrought message down our throats. And that’s worth watching.
Monday, October 3, 2011
"Moneyball"
By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
In 2002, the New York Yankees made over $125 million. Not surprisingly, the Yankees won 103 games that year. The 2002 Oakland Athletics also won 103 games, but their payroll was about $41 million—less than a third of the Yankees’ payroll. So, the Yankees bought wins with aces and all-stars, but the A’s showed that a team can win just as many games without a blank check. They showed that a poor team can win by pinching pennies, by playing smart—that is, by playing Moneyball.
“Moneyball” is a story about how David outsmarts Goliath, but it begins with heartbreak. Despite putting together a great team, Oakland A’s General Manager Billy Beane (Brad Pitt) stands by as his team crumbles to the Yankees in the 2001 playoffs. That heartbreak only deepens over the next several months as Beane realizes that his team is going to be gutted. The small market A’s cannot afford to keep their stars. They cannot match the massive contracts offered by the likes of the Yankees and Red Sox. $41 million just isn’t what it used to be.
But Beane refuses to wave the white flag. Instead, he gets creative. Beane knows that he cannot afford to sign superstars. He knows that he has to pinch every penny in order to field a legitimate team. So Beane plays Moneyball.
Moneyball is a team-building system that marries baseball, statistics and economics. It is all about getting some bang for a buck or two. Those who adopt the system try to buy as many wins as possible with as little money as possible. They do this by ignoring the he-man homerun hitters and flashy base stealers that earn big money, and instead focusing on gritty players that just get on base. These players are often overlooked (and underpaid), but they score runs and win games. So they are perfect for small market teams.
Thus, Beane rubs two pennies together and creates a 2002 Oakland A’s team that he thinks is built to win. Others—Beane’s scouts, the A’s manager, sports analysts, and fans all over the country—think that Beane is crazy. They think that his team has no shot.
And at first they are right. At first, the 2002 A’s are pitiful. With few wins and even fewer supporters, Beane can only hope that he was right—that things will turn around. His job depends on it. His team depends on it. The A’s fans depend on it.
Whether Moneyball is the way of the future remains to be seen. It is unclear whether it will turn out to be a huge success. What is clear is that “Moneyball” (the movie) is a winner both at the box office and with critics. This movie is undeniably well written and well acted. Brad Pitt and the supporting cast feel like the real thing—like they know what they are doing in the dugout and front office—and Aaron Sorkin (along with Steven Zaillian) comes through once again with a fun and amusing screenplay.
However, unless you find baseball, fantasy sports, statistical analysis, etc., intrinsically interesting, you might find this movie to be forgettable. Heck, I like baseball a lot, and I even have a fantasy sports team, but I found “Moneyball” to be pretty mundane.
Part of the problem is that Moneyball is made out to be for the little guy; it is supposed to be a strategy for outsmarting richer ball clubs. But, in reality, the little guy never wins. The small market A’s are never successful in the playoffs. It is only when the rich Red Sox adopt the system that it meets with any success in the playoffs. So, appearances and tag lines aside, it’s not clear that Moneyball does what it says it does—it’s not clear that it really levels the playing field. Such truths inevitably take a little wind out of this movie’s sails.
“Moneyball” is good, but not as good as it is supposed to be. My guess is that those who are intrigued and excited by the previews for “Moneyball” will like the movie. Those who are curious but don’t really care about the topic will be disappointed.
Coastal View News
In 2002, the New York Yankees made over $125 million. Not surprisingly, the Yankees won 103 games that year. The 2002 Oakland Athletics also won 103 games, but their payroll was about $41 million—less than a third of the Yankees’ payroll. So, the Yankees bought wins with aces and all-stars, but the A’s showed that a team can win just as many games without a blank check. They showed that a poor team can win by pinching pennies, by playing smart—that is, by playing Moneyball.
“Moneyball” is a story about how David outsmarts Goliath, but it begins with heartbreak. Despite putting together a great team, Oakland A’s General Manager Billy Beane (Brad Pitt) stands by as his team crumbles to the Yankees in the 2001 playoffs. That heartbreak only deepens over the next several months as Beane realizes that his team is going to be gutted. The small market A’s cannot afford to keep their stars. They cannot match the massive contracts offered by the likes of the Yankees and Red Sox. $41 million just isn’t what it used to be.
But Beane refuses to wave the white flag. Instead, he gets creative. Beane knows that he cannot afford to sign superstars. He knows that he has to pinch every penny in order to field a legitimate team. So Beane plays Moneyball.
Moneyball is a team-building system that marries baseball, statistics and economics. It is all about getting some bang for a buck or two. Those who adopt the system try to buy as many wins as possible with as little money as possible. They do this by ignoring the he-man homerun hitters and flashy base stealers that earn big money, and instead focusing on gritty players that just get on base. These players are often overlooked (and underpaid), but they score runs and win games. So they are perfect for small market teams.
Thus, Beane rubs two pennies together and creates a 2002 Oakland A’s team that he thinks is built to win. Others—Beane’s scouts, the A’s manager, sports analysts, and fans all over the country—think that Beane is crazy. They think that his team has no shot.
And at first they are right. At first, the 2002 A’s are pitiful. With few wins and even fewer supporters, Beane can only hope that he was right—that things will turn around. His job depends on it. His team depends on it. The A’s fans depend on it.
Whether Moneyball is the way of the future remains to be seen. It is unclear whether it will turn out to be a huge success. What is clear is that “Moneyball” (the movie) is a winner both at the box office and with critics. This movie is undeniably well written and well acted. Brad Pitt and the supporting cast feel like the real thing—like they know what they are doing in the dugout and front office—and Aaron Sorkin (along with Steven Zaillian) comes through once again with a fun and amusing screenplay.
However, unless you find baseball, fantasy sports, statistical analysis, etc., intrinsically interesting, you might find this movie to be forgettable. Heck, I like baseball a lot, and I even have a fantasy sports team, but I found “Moneyball” to be pretty mundane.
Part of the problem is that Moneyball is made out to be for the little guy; it is supposed to be a strategy for outsmarting richer ball clubs. But, in reality, the little guy never wins. The small market A’s are never successful in the playoffs. It is only when the rich Red Sox adopt the system that it meets with any success in the playoffs. So, appearances and tag lines aside, it’s not clear that Moneyball does what it says it does—it’s not clear that it really levels the playing field. Such truths inevitably take a little wind out of this movie’s sails.
“Moneyball” is good, but not as good as it is supposed to be. My guess is that those who are intrigued and excited by the previews for “Moneyball” will like the movie. Those who are curious but don’t really care about the topic will be disappointed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)