Movie Review: Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Movie Review: Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry

Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry
Directed by: Alison Klayman.

China has come a long way in becoming a more open society in the past few decades, yet still has a long way to go until they are truly open, truly free. Artist and activist Ai Weiwei almost perfectly embodies this contradiction in Chinese society. Decades ago, someone as openly critical of the Chinese government would be, like his father was, shipped off for “reeducation through hard labor” – and that is if they were lucky and weren’t executed or just “disappeared”. And yet, while this hasn’t happened to Ai Weiwei yet, the Chinese government did shut down his blog when he used it to openly and repeatedly criticize them in the wake of the earthquake that left tens of thousands dead – including thousands of school children crushed in poorly constructed government schools. One police officer even punched Ai in the head, causing him to need brain surgery. And then there was that three month period where Ai vanished – taken in by the police and questioned, apparently because of his finances, and then released – with a $2.4 million tax bill given to him. So yes, things have gotten better – but they are far from good.

Alison Klayman’s documentary Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry is a fascinating portrait of the man who has become arguably China’s most famous modern artist. It tracks his development – from his nine year period in New York for the mid-1980s to the early 1990s, to his return to Beijing, where he became a fixture on the “underground” art scene – because the galleries did not want to show his type of art. Back then, he was doing things like photographing himself smashed a Han Dynasty vase, or painting over similar relics – sometimes with logos for things like Coca Cola. These were seen as shocking at the time – how could he “destroy” these pieces of Chinese history, but the symbolism is clear – China is destroying their own history everyday – and no one notices.

His career really took off in the early 2000s, and his reputation has simply grown, both internationally and inside China ever since. He now works on an enormous scale – making a collage of backpacks spelling out a simple phrase “She lived happily on this earth for seven years”, a quote from a parent of one those children killed in the earthquake. Ai was tireless in his effort to uncover how many children were killed – sending out volunteers across the country to collect the names and birthdates of the children killed, because apparently the Chinese government thought this information should be “classified”. When they shut down his blog, he takes to twitter – getting information out to his mainly followers as it happens. When the police follow and videotape him, he has his own videographer’s film them right back. Although he knows nothing will come out of his request for an investigation into the punch that police officer gave him, he goes around to every government agency he can to file a complaint. Why? Because for Ai, saying the system is flawed is useless – you have to show it is flawed. How else will it ever get better?

This documentary is mainly a celebration of Ai Weiwei and his work – essentially letting him tell his own story, either through interviews (with Klayman, or others that she observes), or through simply sitting back and watching, fly on the wall style, as Ai works. His life and his work have become so intertwined, it is almost impossible to tell the difference anymore – everything he does is part of his art. This is a beautiful, thoughtful, fascinating documentary about an important artist – and is one of the year’s best documentaries.

Movie Review: Alps

Movie Review: Alps

Alps
Directed by: Giorgos Lanthimos.
Written by: Efthymis Filippou & Giorgos Lanthimos.
Starring: Stavros Psyllakis, Aris Servetalis, Johnny Vekris, Ariane Labed, Aggeliki Papoulia, Erifili Stefanidou.

I have no idea what to make of Giorgos Lanthimos’ Alps. His last film, Dogtooth, was a brilliant, surrealistic film in the tradition of Luis Bunuel, about a father who has kept his kids locked in their large compound, and warped their view of the world – essentially by not letting them see it – and then having his work ruined by an outsider, he thought he could trust. That was a demented little film – violent, sexual, but it was also brilliant. And now for his follow-up, he made Alps. And I have no idea what it means.

When I recently reviewed Leos Carax’s Holy Motors, I said that I didn’t think that the movie had an overall meaning – or if it did, Carax deliberately doesn’t give the audience the information they need to piece it together. The movie is whatever you make of it. The difference between that film and this one is that while I think Carax was deliberately not giving the audience the information required to “figure out” his movie – and that the end result was freeing, because you could think whatever they hell you wanted to. But Lanthimos’ film is different – there is a meaning to Alps, or at least I think there is. I just don’t have the foggiest idea what the hell it is.

The movie is about a group of four strange people – a paramedic, a nurse, a gymnast and her coach. Together they make up a group that they call the Alps – which according to the paramedic, who is the leader, both has a meaning and does not. What they do is approach family members of the recently deceased and offer to be their dead family members for a few hours a week. A lot of planning goes into this, and the members of the Alps dress precisely how the family members tell them, and follow a very strict script of what to say – screw it up, and you’re in trouble. They say this will help the family deal with their grief, and eventually, they will no longer need the surrogates. The nurse, who is the main character in the movie, identifies a young promising tennis player, injured in a car accident, and decides when she dies, that she will take over the role. She then lies to the rest of the group, telling them the tennis player miraculously survived, and then approaches the family herself – and becomes the tennis player for them.

We know this will not end well. Just like the dysfunctional family in Dogtooth, the dysfunctional group at the center of Alps is held together with threats, intimidation and violence – and we know sooner or later it will all come crumbling down – as it must.

But what is the point of Alps? The premise of the movie is ridiculous – I cannot imagine anyone in real life coming up with a business like the Alps do – and if they did, I cannot imagine families just welcoming these strangers into their home to be their dead family members. Yet, you could make the movie into a bizarre comedy, or another exercise in surrealism like Dogtooth. This is the track Lanthimos takes, because the movie certainly isn’t funny. The actors all speak with a slow, steady monotone; there is no passion to anything they are doing from one scene to the next. But even surrealism normally has some sort of point – Bunuel often used it to expose the hypocrisy of the ruling class or of religions. Dogtooth looks at human nature, and fascism. But what is Alps saying?

I still have no idea. I even did something I rarely do before writing my own review – and that is read what other critics had to say, and I’m still at a loss. Because the family members of the dead are not given real roles – we never know how they feel about doing this or why they felt it necessary, the movie really isn’t saying anything about grief. It’s looking at the people who do the acting themselves. But what the hell does it mean?

Alps is equally fascinating and frustrating. I have to admit, I was drawn into its immense weirdness. I was never bored watching the film, and I always wanted to see where the movie was going next. Dogtooth was in many ways a triumph of screenwriting, but Alps is the better director film – more mysterious, darker, more impenetrable. I don’t always require a movie explain itself in full. I loved Holy Motors, which I’ve already talked about, and while I know that some have posted big, long theories on the meanings of such ambiguous films as Mulholland Drive or The White Ribbon, I don’t really care to read them. I don’t have to unlock all a film’s mysteries to like it. The difference is that I didn’t think unlocking the mysteries of those films was really the point of those films – you don’t need to understand the mechanics of what happened in Mulholland Drive or The White Ribbon to get lost in its mysteries, and the solution to those mysteries ultimately doesn’t matter. But I think they matter in Alps. Watching the film, I kept waiting for a light bulb to go off in my head – the moment when things become clear, or at least clearer. And that moment never came. I was fascinated by Alps all the way through – I think I’ll probably watch the film again, perhaps multiple times. But I still have no clue what the hell the movie is about.

Movie Review: The Comedy

Movie Review: The Comedy

The Comedy
Directed by: Rick Alverson.
Written by: Rick Alverson and Robert Donne and Colm O'Leary.
Starring: Tim Heidecker (Swanson), Eric Wareheim (Van Arman), James Murphy (Ben), Gregg Turkington (Bobby), Kate Lyn Sheil (Waitress), Alexia Rasmussen (Young woman), Jeffrey Jensen (Cargill), Liza Kate (Sister in Law), Seth Koen (Male nurse), Rock Kohli (Raj).

Swanson is pretty much a protypical hipster. He drifts through his life with no purpose, sees everything ironically, takes nothing seriously, and pretty much makes fun of everyone around him who are foolish enough to have things like beliefs or jobs. He doesn’t have to work – his father is rich, and Swanson is just killing time until the old man finally kicks the bucket, and all the money is his own. Swanson takes no pleasure in anything he does. He is a hollow, empty character.

When we first meet him, he is doing what he’ll do repeatedly throughout the movie – cruelly fuck with another person. The person this time is his father’s male nurse, who he mocks for having a girl’s job, questions his sexuality, and subjects him to an endless series of questions about a distended anus. Swanson clearly thinks he’s better than the nurse – just like later he thinks he’s better than the gardener he mocks, the wealthy couple who employs the gardener, the cab driver he subjects to a racist rant and the group of black men he subjects to an even more racist rant. But he’s not a racist – he’s just an ironic racist, making racist jokes not because he believes them but because, well, I have no idea. His only two hobbies other than mocking other is to seduce gullible young women and get them back to his house boat. He does this is pretty much the same way – by saying hugely inappropriate things (“I’m not saying I agree with Hitler, but…”). His other hobby is to hang out with his equally obnoxious hipster friends – all sporting the same silly beards, sunglasses, shorts and flip flops – ironically, of course.

If The Comedy was a more honest movie, it could have been a great one. But it seems to want to have it’s cake and eat it to, and that dooms the film to the miserable failure that it is. This is a movie made for hipsters, by hipsters that criticizes hipsters. If Swanson’s main sin is being so ironically detached for life, what does it say about the filmmakers who have, of course, ironically named their film The Comedy, when the film is anything but funny.

Swanson is a deviant little psychopath, unable to feel empathy with anyone around him, and unable to bring himself to care. One of his hookups has a horrific end that isn’t about what he does, but rather what he doesn’t do – which is pretty much anything. No matter what is happening around him, Swanson cannot bring himself to give a shit. Perhaps the point of not giving any of the female characters in the movie a name – they are even identified in the credits as Young Woman, Waitress, Sister-in-Law – is that Swanson doesn’t care enough about them to even learn their names, but it still comes off as rather crass and sexist. But where the movie truly lost me is in the late going, when all of a sudden, it starts to ask the audience to feel sorry for Swanson – that deep down, he really is a person too, with real feelings, that he is simply masking with his ironic detachment. What a crock of shit.

The movie has other problems as well. The film makes it’s point about Swanson’s detachment in the first scene, and then proceeds to bludgeon us to the death for more than an hour with the same point again and again and again. We get it. But one thing in the movie that works, strangely enough, is Tim Heidecker’s performance as Swanson. He is actually perfect as this obnoxious asshole. I’m not a fan of Heidecker’s previous work – earlier this year, he and his partner in crime Eric Wareheim (who appears here as one of his friends) made Tim and Eric’s Billion Dollar Movie (an extension of their TV show Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job!) and it is the only movie from 2012 that I turned off part way through. After about a half an hour of their brand of no-comedy comedy, I was so annoyed I wanted to put my fist through the TV screen, so decided to just turn it off instead. But in The Comedy, Heidecker proves he can actually act if he wants to. What he needs next time is a real movie – not this horrible, empty, dishonest, ironically detached movie that tries so hard to make you think Swanson is an asshole, and then tries to convince you he has feelings to. This is one of the year’s worst films.

Movie Review: Keep the Lights On

Movie Review: Keep the Lights On

Keep the Lights On
Directed by: Ira Sachs.
Written by: Ira Sachs and Mauricio Zacharias.
Starring: Thure Lindhardt (Erik Rothman), Zachary Booth (Paul Lucy), Julianne Nicholson (Claire),Souleymane Sy Savane (Alassane), Paprika Steen (Karen), Miguel del Toro (Igor).

There is a certain degree of irrationality involved in any relationship. No matter how long you are with someone, you never truly know them. You can understand them and love them, but everyone has their own private experience and thoughts, that make them somewhat of a mystery to even those closest to them. Keep the Lights On is a movie about relationship between Erik and Paul that last a decade, and yet Erik never truly understands Paul – never figures out who he is. Watching the movie you cannot help but think that Erik wasted ten years of his life.

They meet in 1998, through a phone sex line. Erik (Thure Lindhardt) does this often – sometimes meeting other gay men he doesn’t much care for, but he does enjoy the anonymous sex. One day, the hookup he sets up is with Paul (Zachary Booth) and the two share an instant connection. Paul warns him right off though that he has a girlfriend, so he shouldn’t expect much. The first half of that sentence may be a lie – we certainly never meet a girlfriend – but the second part is the truth. Erik shouldn’t expect much from Paul. But he does anyway.

Erik is a documentary filmmaker, whose rich family supports his career, as he makes films that few people will ever eventually see, and spends years on each of them. Paul is a literary agent, and reminds Erik that some people actually have to work for a living – go into the office day in, day out and make money. So it’s somewhat surprising that it isn’t Erik who falls into drug addiction, but Paul. Paul disappears for days at a time, and Erik frantically searches New York for him each and every time – and takes him back each and every time too, no matter what Paul has done. This goes on for years – the two fight, break-up, get back together, and on and on and on.

The film was co-written and directed by Ira Sachs, who based the movie on one of his own long term relationships, that eventually came to an end. The movie is an insightful look into the changing nature of the gay scene in New York from the late 1990s to the mid-2000s. And it is also a sympathetic portrait of Erik (who, of course, is the character Sachs based on himself). Erik is a nice guy – an intelligent guy – who has a supportive group of friends and family, who constantly try and talk him out taking Paul back – but Erik will not listen to reason. It is to Thure Lindhardt’s credit that he makes Erik into such a sympathetic character, even though I cannot be the only audience member who gets frustrated with him for not seeing Paul in a clear light. I also liked the visual look of the film – drained of color, the cinematography takes on a sad look. And this is not a movie that shies away from the more intimate details of gay sex, which is somewhat refreshing, since most movies still only have gay characters to be the wacky, sexless best friend of the female protagonist.

But there is a gaping hole at the center of Keep the Light On – and that’s Paul. Who is this guy? The movie offers no insight into who he is or why he does what he does. But perhaps that is the point. If Ira Sachs could not figure out his lover in the 10 years they were together, why should I expect him to figure out Paul in this movie? Still, the question gnawed on me throughout the movie. What we are left with is a portrait of a one sided relationship – where Erik does everything for Paul and gets nothing in return, and because of that, he pretty much wastes ten years of his life. How sad.

The Documentary Shortlist

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

The Documentary Shortlist

Once again, the Academy has released the shortlisted 15 films that will be competing for the Best Documentary Film Oscar – and once again, people are pissed off about what didn’t make the list. Most of the ire this time is directed at excluding The Central Park Five, West of Memphis and The Queen of Versailles. Every year, they try and change the rules to ensure that the most critically acclaimed docs make it into the race – and every year it seems when the shortlist is announced the consensus seems to be to send them back to the drawing board.

But if you’ll allow me, let me defend the branch – at least partly. I have no idea if The Central Park Five or West of Memphis deserved to make this list – I haven’t had the chance to see either one, and their exclusion doesn’t diminish in the least my desire to see them. I did see, and rather loved, The Queen of Versailles. If I had to guess as to why those three films didn’t make the cut it would be this – one of the directors of The Central Park Five is Ken Burns, a legend in his own right, but a television legend, and perhaps the theatrical documentary branch decided to fend for their own. Silly yes, but more than possible. West of Memphis is about the West Memphis Three – and comes a year after this branch not only shortlisted, but nominated, Paradise Lost 3, about the same case. I hear West of Memphis is great, and adds a lot of new insight into the case, but it could still have a been there, done that feel to it. As for The Queen of Versailles, the one film I have seen, perhaps it struck the Academy as a little too close to reality TV – those shows on TLN about families of rich, spoiled, stupid people. The Queen of Versailles is much greater than that – but it does go over some of the same terrain.

But why I feel the need to defend the Academy is simple – they at least shortlisted 15 films I had heard of before the list was announced – and for the most part, all 15 of these films achieved a level of critical acclaim AND a higher percentage than in most previous years got a real theatrical release – not just a one week qualifying run. The branch wanted to become more mainstream – and they did that. And no matter what, whenever a shortlist like this is announced, someone will be pissed off. Does this process still need some work? Yes, I think so. Is it inching forwards and getting at least marginally better? I think so too.

Of the 15 shortlisted, I have seen five of them. Bully got a lot of attention earlier in the year, and while it didn’t translate into huge box office, it remains one of the most talked about docs of the year – and does shine light on an important issue. Not a great doc, but a solid one. Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry was my favorite of all the artist docs I saw this year – an intimate portrait of an artist and his work and the “new” China he lives in. The Imposter is one of those so crazy it must be true story about a 23 year old French man who impersonates a missing Texas teenager – and gets away with it for far longer than he should. The Invisible War is a stunning, sad documentary about the epidemic of rape and sexual assault in the US Military. The one that I am currently pulling for however is This is Not a Film a film co-directed by Jafar Panahi, the great Iranian director, as he waits out his appeal before heading to jail. It is a one of a kind film – and I am amazed they shortlisted it. Now nominate it, and give Panahi an Oscar!

I will try to see the other 10 docs before the nominations come out – but I fear I have already missed by chance at some of them. Chasing Ice has gotten some good reviews for its stunning visuals of glaciers melting over the years – not my usual type of thing, but I’ll check it out if I can. Detropia is one a few films this year to look at Detroit’s collapse. Ethel is a documentary about the life of Ethel Kennedy. 5 Broken Cameras is the self portrait of a Palestinian farmer and his non-violent protests against Israel. The Gatekeepers interviews six former heads of the Israeli intelligence service to get their view on what has happen, and what needs to happen in their conflict with the Arab world.

The House I Live In looks at America’s hypocritical War on Drugs, that penalizes minorities more than whites. How to Survive a Plague is about two groups who help turn AIDS for a quick death sentence, to a manageable disease. Mea Maxima Culpa: Silence in the House of God is about the clergy molestation scandal – a subject that has been told before, but this is still getting great reviews. Searching For Sugar Man is about two South Africans who set out to find their musical hero – Rodriguez. And finally, The Waiting Room is about the struggles of a public hospital in America as they care for their largely uninsured patients.

Believe when I say I will try and see the 10 films shortlisted that I have not yet seen. As far as I know, I have not yet had the chance to see Detropia, Ethel, The House I Live In, Mea Maxima Culpa, The Gatekeepers or The Waiting Room in Toronto as of yet, and I don’t know when/if I will. I think I missed 5 Broken Cameras and How to Survive a Plague when they were here. And I believe Chasing Ice and Searching for Sugar Man are still playing. The truth is though, that I only have so much time – especially when the movies only play in Toronto, so I still may miss these two, and have to catch up with them on DVD eventually.

I do endeavor to see as many docs as possible – 20 so far this year. Out of those, along with The Queen of Versailles, I would not have minded Side by Side – a fascinating look at the film to digital transition, Jiro Dreams of Sushi – a simple doc, but a touching one –and Marina Abramovic: The Artist is Present – another look at the life of artist – be shortlisted, but since I have not seen 10 of the films that were shortlisted, perhaps there was a reason they weren’t. My favorite doc of the year is Sarah Polley’s Stories We Tell, which will not be released in America until 2013, so may be eligible for this prize next year. Another of my favorites, The Act of Killing, which I saw at TIFF, is also being released next year, so may be eligible then.

Okay, prediction time. So what will the final five be? If you asked me now, I would say: The Gatekeepers, How to Survive a Plague, The Invisible War, Searching for Sugar Man and The Waiting Room – with This is Not a Film and Mea Maxima Culpa as possible spoilers.

Here are the films once again:

 
1.       Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry
2.       Bully
3.       Chasing Ice
4.       Detropia
5.       Ethel
6.       5 Broken Cameras
7.       The Gatekeepers
8.       The House I Live In
9.       How to Survive a Plague
10.   The Imposter
11.   The Invisible War
12.   Mea Maxima Culpa: Silence in the House of God
13.   Searching for Sugar Man
14.   This Is Not a Film
15.   The Waiting Room

Movie Review: Killing Them Softly

Movie Review: Killing Them Softly

Killing Them Softly
Directed by: Andrew Dominik.
Written by: Andrew Dominik based on the book by George V. Higgins.
Starring: Brad Pitt (Jackie), Scoot McNairy (Frankie), Ben Mendelsohn (Russell), James Gandolfini (Mickey), Richard Jenkins (Driver), Ray Liotta (Markie Trattman), Vincent Curatola (Johnny Amato), Trevor Long (Steve Caprio), Max Casella (Barry Caprio), Sam Shepard (Dillon), Slaine (Kenny Gill), Linara Washington (Hooker).

I wish I liked Killing Them Softly much more than I actually do. There is so much in this movie to admire. The performances by the entire cast – Brad Pitt, Scoot McNairy, Ben Mendelsohn, James Gandolfini, Richard Jenkins and Ray Liotta – are great. Much of the dialogue, lifted directly from the novel Cogan’s Trade by the great George V. Higgins, is also great. And the film contains one of the single best final scenes of any movie so far this decade. And yet, so much of this movie just fails to hit the right notes. The film was directed by Andrew Dominik, whose last film was the masterpiece The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford. But Killing Them Softly is over directed by Dominik, who tries to add importance to the storyline by paralleling the story to the election of Barack Obama, and barring that final scene, it pretty much completely fails, and serves only to distract from the rest of the movie. Over much of the movie, we hear speeches – by George W. Bush, by John McCain, by Barack Obama – and these speeches fight for attention with the dialogue sequences. Dominik’s musical choices are far too on the nose and self-conscience. And then there are a few scenes that seem like Dominik is just showing off, even though it adds nothing to the movie. There is so much to admire about this movie – and yet I don’t think the movie ever quite comes together.

The plot of the movie is simple. A low level mob guy known as the Squirrel (Vincent Curatola) has an idea to rob a mob sanctioned card game. The guy who runs the game, Markie Trattman (Ray Liotta) knocked over his own game a few years ago – and although he got away with it, everyone knows he did it, so if it happens again, he figures he’ll get the blame. The Squirrel reaches out to Frankie (Scoot McNairy) to get him to actually do the robbery – and in turn, Frankie brings in Russell (Ben Mendelsohn), which is not a good idea for many reasons, the biggest being that he is a drug addict. Anyway, the robbery works out as it should – but then Russell shoots off his mouth. Driver (Richard Jenkins), a lawyer who works for the mob, brings in Jackie (Brad Pitt), a hit man, to take care of the aftermath. Jackie, in turn, brings in Mickey (James Gandolfini) to perform one of the hits.

Dominik’s screenplay adheres very closely to George V. Higgins novel, Cogan’s Trade. Higgins is one of those authors, like Elmore Leonard, who raises dialogue to an art form. His books are mainly a series of long conversations – sometimes even monologues that go on for pages – of hard, coarse, underworld poetry. Higgins characters are often not very smart – most of the characters in this movie certainly fit into that category. The smartest decision Dominik made in the screenwriting phase is realize that he wasn’t going to improve on Higgins’ dialogue, and keeps whole passages from the novel. And for the most part, the actors are excellent in their roles. Gandolfini as a once great hit man who has become washed up and pathetic, Jenkins as an all business lawyer, who discusses murder as if it’s a stock transaction, McNairy as a bundle of nervous energy as the noose slowly tightens around his neck, Mendolsohn, as a sweaty mess, Liotta and doing his Liotta gangster thing to perfection. Best of all is Pitt, who reteams with Dominik, the director who gave him his best role in Jesse James. I’m not sure there’s another working right now who uses their eyes as effectively as Pitt does – and it’s different in every movie. The crazed look he has in 12 Monkeys, the mischievous gleam of Fight Club, the pure charm of Moneyball, and the violent insanity that turns into quiet resignation of Jesse James. In Killing Them Softly, Pitt’s eyes are cold and emotionless – but always thinking. You can see him evaluating and re-evaluating during every one of his conversations in this film. Best of all is the closing scene – where Pitt simply owns the screen.

And yet, despite how much I liked the dialogue and the performances, the movie never really rises to their level. The movie gets off to a rocky start with a strange, headache inducing series of flashes of McNairy walking with speeches pumping in around him. It’s a jarring opening, which I suppose was the intent, but I don’t think it’s an effective one – it’s simply off putting. The same is true for the robbery itself – with a Bush speech droning on in the background, far too loud for the movie’s good, which distracts from the tension of the scene itself. There are two other sequences that are far too over the top stylistically as well – a scene between McNairy and Mendelsohn, where Mendelsohn is stoned, and comes in and out of consciousness, and the movie fades in and out as well, and one of the murder scenes in the most painstaking slow motion sequence since Zack Snyder’s last movie.

Yet, I also have to admit, that while I found all the political stuff to be a distraction for the majority of the movie, it is this exact element that makes the final scene work as brilliantly as it does. And that final scene is a doozy, with easily the best, most memorable closing line in any movie this year.

What it all boils down to is that I’m not really sure what to make of Killing Them Softly. I have a feeling that a second viewing would help to clarify my feelings on the movie a little. Now that I know about the movie’s stylistic excesses, and it’s strange, slow pace, I would be prepared for that, which I wasn’t this time around. I only really know two things after one viewing of Killing Them Softly – the first is that Peter Yates’ The Friends of Eddie Coyle with the great Robert Mitchum remains the best adaptation of a George V. Higgins novel, and two, I need to see this one again.

Movie Review: Anna Karenina

Movie Review: Anna Karenina

Anna Karenina
Directed by: Joe Wright.
Written by: Tom Stoppard based on the book by Leo Tolstoy.
Starring: Keira Knightley (Anna Karenina), Jude Law (Alexei Karenin), Aaron Taylor-Johnson (Count Vronsky), Kelly Macdonald (Dolly), Matthew Macfadyen (Oblonsky), Domhnall Gleeson (Konstantin Levin),  Ruth Wilson (Princess Betsy), Alicia Vikander (Kitty), Olivia Williams (Countess Vronskaya), Michelle Dockery (Princess Myagkaya), Emily Watson (Countess Lydia), Holliday Grainger (The Baroness), Shirley Henderson (Meme Kartasov), Bill Skarsgård (Captain Machouten), Cara Delevingne (Princess Sorokina).

They say that necessity is the mother of invention, and that is the case with Joe Wright’s adaptation of Leo Tolstoy’s classic novel Anna Karenina. Without a huge budget to do this period piece with the same style that most movies of its ilk are done, Wright has to find a way to tell this epic story more economically. This is apparently the reason why much of the movie is set on a stage – as if what we are watching is a play adaptation of the novel. Wright’s theatricality goes beyond simple set design though – much of the action and acting has that same theatrical bent to it as well. The movie moves with the same rhythm of a stage musical at times. While some will undoubtedly hate what Wright does in this film, after I got used to it, I kind of loved it. It’s completely different than any other period piece in recent memory. The movie has a different problem though holding it back from greatness – the great romance at the center of the movie that drives all the action, rings hollow. I just never believed that this Anna would love this Vronsky so much that she gives up everything in her life for him.

Keira Knightley plays Anna – who is married to the boring Alexi Karenin (Jude Law) is what is merely a marriage of convenience. When the movie opens, she is travelling to Moscow to try and talk her sister-in-law Dolly (Kelly McDonald) from divorcing her brother Oblonsky (Matthew Mcfadyen) over an affair he had with the governess. Dolly’s sister Kitty (Alicia Vikander) has two suitors – the humble, but wealthy, farmer Konstantin (Domhnall Gleeson), and the dashing, military man from a respectable family Count Vronsky (Aaron Taylor-Johnson). Kitty rejects Konstantin’s proposal, even though it’s clear to everyone he is madly in love with her, and holds onto hope that the sexier Vronsky will propose instead – which he very well might have, except that he locks eyes with Anna, and is immediately smitten. He’ll follow her back to St. Petersburg, where she’ll try to resist his charms, but will eventually fail. When she becomes pregnant, the secret that was only whispered about becomes impossible to hide.

The movie, like the novel, uses the three central couples to highlight the hypocrisy in Russian society in those days. What Oblonsky does, and continues to do even after he is caught, is viewed as socially acceptable behavior – he certainly pays no price for his indiscretions. What Anna, who actually falls in love, and not just lust like her brother, makes herself a social pariah – and loses everything because of her love. And when they finally do get together, Konstantin and Kitty share a more pure kind of love – it may not have the highs and lows of Anna’s great love, but they really do love each other.

The problem with the movie is that I just never believed that Aaron Taylor-Johnson’s Vronsky was such an irresistible sexual force that Anna could simply not resist him. As played by Taylor-Johnson, he seems more like a shallow, superficial playboy – a spoiled, bratty teenager and not a great lover. Had that been the intent, of Tolstoy or Wright, it may have worked, but I don’t think that’s what they’re going for. After all, even with all the social pressure on him, he doesn’t abandon Anna – he loves her as deeply as she loves him. Knightley fares better as Anna than Taylor-Johnson, but because I never believed him, I found it hard to completely buy her as well. Knightley is almost distractedly beautiful in this movie – cloaked in some of the best, most gorgeous costumes of the year, and clearly made up to be at the height of her beauty, and she`s good as Anna – but not quite great.

The performance in the film that is great though is Jude Law`s as Alexi Karenin, Anna`s boring husband. This is a subtle performance – one where Law never raises his voice, never lets his emotions get the best of him. Yet, he can still be cruel and heartless, and at the same time, sympathetic. After all, he really doesn`t do anything wrong – except be boring. He even forgives Anna when she thinks she is dying and wants to die with honor – only to be thrown over a second time when she recovers.

 
The film is a still a triumph for director Wright though – at least at a visual level. The film is mesmerizing, and its style helps to overcome some of the problems with the substance of the movie. Some will find the whole style distracting – and the film`s storytelling confusing at first, but once I got into it, I loved what Wright does here. If he had found a better Vronsky, he may have even made a truly great film.