Silver Linings Playbook

The only things I knew about Silver Linings Playbook before seeing it were its IMDB rating (8.3); its Metacritic rating (81); and that Jennifer Lawrence and Bradley Cooper starred. It’s interesting going into a film knowing little except that it is getting good reviews and that you definitely like one of the stars (Jennifer Lawrence): it makes me wonder how much this knowledge affects my opinion of the film. Whether the good reviews swayed me or not, in the end I did really like it (despite it having a very irritating and hard-to-remember name). Silver Linings Playbook is my favourite kind of comedy: quirky, fun, no slapstick, and with an undercurrent of seriousness. The film is about mental illness but it does not stereotype; it deals with the difficulties of bipolar disorder and depression with both humour and compassion. At its root, the film is a romantic comedy, a genre that with some notable exceptions, tends to produce very predictable films. I’m not going to say that Silver Linings Playbook is not predictable because it is. But about halfway through, as I was mindlessly stuffing my friend’s bag of popcorn down my throat,  I realized I was engrossed in this film. This does not happen to me very often in romantic comedies. Up until that point there had been no cheese factor, and I started to wonder if somehow this romantic comedy would wrap itself up with a happy ending and not be cheesy. I concluded that it would not be possible and that I should probably brace myself for what would likely be a roll-my-eyes, predictable ending. I was pretty much spot on, but the ending was at least mercifully short (and with some moments of humour to soften the blow). All in all, this is no revolutionary romantic comedy, but the acting is terrific (Robert DeNiro has a particularly touching moment), it is legitimately funny, and the characters feel believably real. And sometimes, there is just nothing wrong with a feel-good film, complete with a happy ending and just enough sappiness to make you tear up.

Searching for Sugar Man

I don’t normally go to a movie knowing nothing about it. Usually I go to the theatre because I love an actor or director, have heard rave reviews about a particular movie, or because I’m drawn to the story. The only thing I knew about Searching for Sugar Man was the one-line synopsis on IMDB: Two South Africans set out to discover what happened to their unlikely musical hero, the mysterious 1970s rock ‘n’ roller, Rodriguez. Although this is an accurate summary of the film, it does not begin to capture the magic of it. It is a documentary mystery, told in chronological order, which I appreciated, because I had no idea how the story was going to end. Rodriguez was hugely popular in South Africa during the height of apartheid, and his albums are credited with sparking revolution in the country. The mystery is two-fold: why was Rodriguez a complete unknown in his native US and what happened to him? The first part of this mystery is never fully solved in my mind. Although he sold somewhere around 500,000 albums in South Africa, no one on camera could say where the proceeds of those sales went. The second part of the mystery is most certainly solved and I will say no more about it! The soundtrack is all Rodriguez’s music, as you would expect, and I found it very Dylan-esque: poetic (and often political) lyrics matched with droning-like singing, over heavy bass and various other instruments (including bassoon at one point!).  My friend Shawn described it as Woody Guthrie mixed with Donovan mixed with Richie Havens. I have no comment on that one; I just know I really liked it. What was most magical about the film was the use of animation in just a few shots. In every case I believe it was silhouettes of people with cityscape in the background. Really beautiful.  All in all this was an unusual documentary that plays out like a piece of fiction. It is absolutely worth seeing.

Moonrise Kingdom

Moonrise Kingdom, while quirky and clever, isn’t likely going to contain any surprises for anyone who has seen a Wes Anderson film.  The story is cute and pretty heart-warming and the kid stars are sassy and far too smart for their ages. Set in the 1960s, every shot looks like a perfectly planned photograph, which could have been pulled from an album of that era.  Even before the narrator tells you what year it is, you know it’s sometime in the 60s or 70s.  Bill Murray is his usual depressed self and it’s brilliant – I never tire of it.  Edward Norton is kind of adorable as the scout troop leader. Bruce Willis plays a likeable character and fits right in with the Anderson schtick. Despite all this I have to admit being a bit disappointed. Some of the special effects could have been done better, notably a lightning strike that hits a boy. I could have also lived without the slow motion shot – it was just long enough to make you start squirming.  I guess all in all I’m giving this a mediocre review. I chuckled a couple times but I think I laughed harder in Darjeeling Express. I’ll admit that I had high expectations going in (thanks, Metacritic) and that no doubt affected my opinion. If I had never seen a Wes Anderson film before, Moonrise Kingdom would almost certainly get 5 baboons. However despite the story itself being unique, everything else was so expected: the actors, the dialogue, the oddity of the characters. And layered over all of that was the over-the-top quirkiness, which is Anderson’s trademark and frankly was just a bit too much this time around. I enjoyed it as I was watching it but it’s not a film I’d go out of my way to see again and I’m certain that if I wasn’t writing this review, I probably wouldn’t remember too much about it in a week’s time (that still may be true!).  However the beauty of the film plus the enjoyable story earns this 3 baboons.

The Avengers

Every so often I think it’s good to suspend your disbelief, tell your brain to shut the hell up, and enjoy a fun superhero action movie.  I had a seriously good time watching The Avengers.  Yes, the premise is ridiculous.  No, there isn’t really a plot.  And I don’t care,  because the thinky part of my brain is shut off for the night.  There were some moments of unexpected humour, where I actually laughed out loud and none (that I can recall) of those obvious jokes  where you chuckle just for something to do.  The violence is exactly the kind that my wimpy self can handle: silly, over-the-top comic book-style action, where people fall from ridiculous heights and get hit with ridiculous things but there’s no blood or gore and the victim just shakes his head and blinks a few times.  The special effects were incredible and the acting was about as good as you’d expect from a movie like this.  Tom Hiddleston played an excellent evil foe – an almost believable genius megalomaniac.  I’ll confess to really liking Scarlett Johansson, which I feel is an unpopular opinion, but I loved Lost in Translation too much not to like her. So if you aren’t a Scarlett fan you may not enjoy The Avengers as much as I did. But if you’re in the mood for a mindless summer action flick, I don’t think you can go wrong with The Avengers.

The Five-Year Engagement

I really wanted to like this movie.  I had high expectations, especially since I was there with a girlfriend and not my husband (he was certain he would not enjoy the film).  I absolutely loved Bridesmaids and I had it in my head that the Five-Year Engagement would be along those lines: clever satire spiked with some raunchy slapstick/toilet humour.  I’m sorry to say it was not.  The Five-Year Engagement isn’t a bad movie really, it’s just not very funny.  If I’d gone in not expecting to laugh or approached it like I do most Adam Sandler movies (with a “let’s get this over with attitude”), I would probably be writing a different review right now.  I think the problem is that the film’s situation was a bit too real and a bit too sad. The Five-Year Engagement centres around two characters who seemed pretty real to me and were quite likeable.  They live in San Francisco and lead excellent lives.  But then Violet accepts a post-doc position at the University of Michigan and Tom (who is an up-and-coming chef) readily agrees to go, thinking it would be just two years and they’d be back in San Francisco.  I immediately liked the premise as it is a situation that many of my friends have experienced (or are about to).  The couple decide to put off their marriage plans until they return to California.  As it turns out Tom despises Michigan while Violet excels in her post-doc position.  Tom can’t find meaningful work and becomes depressed….and well you can probably guess the rest.  There are moments of silliness but these are fleeting and not particularly funny (aside from the Elmo & Cookie Monster scene, where I whole-heartedly laughed) and they are overshadowed by this real problem confronting the couple. The movie was about a half-hour too long and while I actually liked the ending, I did not emerge from the theatre feeling like the whole thing was worth two hours of my life.  I wanted to laugh and instead I pondered.

The Hunter

As a vegetarian and an absolute wimp about violence, I would never go out of my way to see a film with the title, “The Hunter“. However my lovely husband had heard very good things about it and was eager to go. As it turns out, I should learn to trust my instincts with these things. The story centres around a man hired to hunt down the last Tasmanian tiger in existence; it is a very dark film and does not give you much hope for the future of human-nature relationships. The hunter is not a man you like, for several reasons: he’s rude and stand-offish, seems to have no problem with trapping animals using the very inhuman and cruel steel leg-trap, and for the most obvious reason: he’s planning to kill the last member of a species. Although there is some very gorgeous scenery, this was overshadowed for me by the constant fear of seeing a dead, gory animal in the shot (there are a lot of shots of dead, gory animals in this film). I spent the night with images of Tasmanian tigers floating through my dreams; grey and watery images that left me feeling depleted and a bit bummed. These kinds of movies that paint such a bleak picture of human nature really seem to affect me. All this is not to say that it wasn’t a good film; it’s just that I have a hard time separating out the way the movie made me feel with a more objective assessment of the film’s artistic worth. I actually feel fairly unequipped to give a critical review because (as I mentioned before) I am a wimp and am too affected by cute animals being maimed to be objective. So all I can do is rate the movie based on the level of enjoyment I experienced during and after watching it. Needless to say….this movie does not get a baboony stamp of approval. However, the ending of the film is actually pretty poetic and leaves a lot to ponder – it is definitely left open to some interpretation. This saved the film for me and is the reason I’m not giving it only a half baboon. The ending makes it worth a solid 2.

Jiro Dreams of Sushi

Until last weekend I had never heard of the documentary film, Jiro Dreams of Sushi.  It has a weird title and I probably wouldn’t have investigated further had I come across the listing in our local theatre.  Happily, I have friends who are really tuned into the world of film and are not averse to the off-the-beaten-track variety.  My friend Lindsey, who probably loves food just as much as she loves photography (correct, Linds?) was extremely eager to see Jiro.  I love documentaries, so it was an easy sell. As it turns out, Jiro Dreams of Sushi might be one of the most beautiful films I have ever seen.  I’m wracking my brain here, trying to remember other beautiful films: Manufactured Landscapes, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and Pina all jump to mind but as has been stated repeatedly on this blog, my memory is crap so I’m only remembering films that I either recently saw (Pina and Eternal Sunshine) or recently read about and remembered seeing (Manufactured Landscapes).  I’m sure I’ve seen films as equally beautiful as Jiro, but none spring to mind.  The three aforementioned ones are in the same galaxy, but I think it takes a special film to show about 5 dozen (stunning) shots of single pieces of nigiri and keep you interested.  In a nutshell, Jiro is an eighty-five-year-old sushi chef in Tokyo and is the owner and mastermind behind the only sushi restaurant in the world with the coveted 3-star Michelin star rating.  Even more remarkable is that his restaurant is absolutely tiny: it seats just 10 people along a bar, facing the counter where Jiro makes his sushi (and simultaneously studies each of his customers).  Jiro’s life is so different from my own that I was very captivated by his story and almost polar-opposite way of life.  This is a man who was abandoned by his parents at the age of 9 and had to find his own way in the world.  As far as I could gather he started working in sushi restaurants around this time and basically never looked back.  He has a wife (who you never see in the film and whom Jiro mentions maybe once) and two sons: one has started his own sushi restaurant; the other works under his father.  It is emphasized in the film that Jiro works every day except national holidays and unless there is a major family emergency.  He talks about how when his sons were toddlers they saw him so rarely they thought he was a stranger.  Jiro laughs as he recounts this story but I was horrified.  This is a work ethic on a whole new level: this is an obsession.  The film I think does a good job of telling the story of Jiro without being too biased. While he is lauded for being an absolute sushi genius, Jiro is simultaneously portrayed as a man who has a very singular vision: to reach perfection.  I came out of the film feeling sorry for his children, who weren’t allowed to go to college in order to become sushi apprentices; for his wife who we can only assume feels lonely while her husband and sons work 15-hour days; and for Jiro himself, whose singular fixation on combining rice and fish leaves little room for appreciating other things life might have to offer.  But then, (aside from how it affects his wife and children) how can I fault a man for pursuing his life’s passion with an intensity and zeal that few of us have experienced? Indeed, aren’t determined and obsessed people like Jiro the reason we have amazing things like iPhones, space travel, polio vaccines, and great literature? I woke up pondering the film, flip-flopping between feeling sorry for Jiro and jealously wishing that I loved something that much.  I highly recommend this film especially if you love sushi and beautiful photography/cinematography. I also loved it because the soundtrack is full of gorgeous classical music: the Tchaikovsky violin concerto; Unaccompanied Bach; Philip Glass.  See it if you can find it!  I doubt it will be in theatres much longer.

A Separation

I’ve been waiting to see A Separation for a couple months, after having seen the previews numerous times at our local theatre.  This despite it being one of those previews where you feel you’re being told the entire story (you aren’t!).  There’s just something intriguing about seeing an Iranian film; being given a glimpse into a society that I perceive as utterly different from ours in Canada.  For various reasons I ended up not seeing the film until last night, while visiting my sister and brother-in-law in Morristown, NJ.  I have to admit that I was not expecting to find a theatre playing an Iranian film, even if it was Oscar winning.  I regret waiting so long to see it.  The film was captivating both in its story and in its foreign-ness.  Because it centres around a crime, we are given a view into how the judicial system works in Iran (hint: very differently than Canada’s).  We also begin to understand the role that religion plays in everyday affairs, not that this was such a big surprise to me.  What was more surprising I think was actually how much more secular Iran is than I was expecting.   Later I pondered whether the film would have been as engrossing had the story been set in Canada, nevermind that things would have unfolded differently.  I think that it would not have been as great.  About 60% of the film consists of character sketches and these are brilliant.  But the remaining 30% of the greatness of this film is due, in my opinion, to its fascinating setting.  The ending of the film, while frustrating, will likely keep a discussion going amongst your friends long after you have left the theatre.  Definitely worth seeing!

Pina

I know virtually nothing about modern dance (or really any dance for that matter) yet I was eager to see the documentary Pina, about the eponymous German choreographer, because the previews were so intriguing.  Maybe you have seen them? No spoken words, just scenes of dancers in odd places, doing odd things.  I didn’t really know what to expect from this film, but the opening 15 minutes clinched it for me.  I recognized the  haunting bassoon solo of Stravinksi’s Rite of Spring right away and it gave me chills: possibly my all-time favourite piece of “classical” music.  I had never seen the ballet, but as it turns out (from later Wikipedia research) that Pina’s choreography for Rite of Spring was one of the defining pieces of her career.  It was primal, raw, and perfect: for me, this choreography brought the Rite of Spring to life in a way that just listening to it on recording (or playing it as part of a symphony) could never do.  (Watch a bit of it here, if you’re interested.)  You would think that after such a brilliant opening, the film would go downhill, and admittedly it did have its clear lower moments (I do not even pretend to understand the fairly disturbing Cafe Muller).  But other bits of the film were mesmerizing and surreal: dancers dancing beside what looks like a section of a very large quarry, at the grassy side of a very busy intersection, underneath a suspension bridge, in a glass house.  After the Rite of Spring though my favourite piece took place on and around the very cool hangy-down monorail thingy (yes, its official name) in the city of Wuppertal, Germany, which I didn’t even know existed before I saw Pina.  I will grant that this film is definitely not for everybody.  For whatever reason it totally captivated me, despite very little explanation of the choreography and the symbolism behind the pieces.  I actually think that such an addition would detract from the almost dream-like feel of the film: it turns out you don’t need to overthink everything. Sometimes it’s just about feeling.

People of a Feather

People of a Feather is a documentary that simultaneously explores the lifestyles of the Inuit people living around Hudson Bay, how hydroelectric projects are affecting this part of the world, and the intricate relationships between the ice, the eider duck, and the Inuit people.   Most of the film takes place from the point of view of one Inuit family, who we follow as they spend time together, hunt, prepare their gear, and travel across the ice.  Interspersed with this present day perspective are re-enacted scenes of how the Inuit would have lived about 100 years ago, before contact.  Remarkably these scenes are only slightly quaint, and actually feel quite real. The filmmaker, Joel Heath, is a biologist studying the eider duck and their feeding habits.  The only time we see him is in a small wooden hut, perched at the edge of an ice floe, where he spends his days monitoring the ducks via  above-ground and underwater cameras.  The video that he captures is stunning: the ducks diving deep below the ice to the sea floor to retrieve urchins and mussels from the bottom.  The whole film is one part educational, as we learn about how the Inuit and the ducks survive in such a harsh climate; and one part deeply sad as we watch how the effects of hydroelectric dams are crippling the ability of both the ducks and the people survive.  One of the most emotional parts of the film is the silent video footage of eider ducks slowly dying as the ice closes in around them and they are unable to dive to feed.  Overall a fascinating and beautiful film that should be required viewing for anyone who unequivocally supports large hydroelectric projects.