A Serious Man, the latest from the Coen Brothers, is another triumph to add to their extremely impressive back catalogue. Admittedly it makes no commercial concessions and is unlikely to win over those who remain unconverted to their uniquely dark and quirky sense of humour, but devotees will love it.
Essentially this is a pitch black comedy set in 1967 about Midwestern physics professor Larry Gopnik (Michael Stuhlbarg). His wife is leaving him because his inept brother won’t move out of their house, which sets in motion a chain of Job-like disasters that occur in the run-up to his son Danny’s Bar Mitzvah. In despair he turns to a succession of three rabbis for answers as to why God is doing this to him.
It’s brilliantly directed and scripted, and the performances, from a largely unknown cast, are all excellent. Ethan and Joel Coen have said this film is partly autobiographical of their own experiences growing up in the Midwest, but this being the Coens its not really worth analysing the film on that level. Narrative wise this is a more cerebral less plot driven piece than their recent works, oddly reminiscent of Woody Allen in its questioning of God and why he allows bad things to happen to people (especially Hannah and Her Sisters). There are several images that allude to Old Testament stories – Larry seeing his neighbour sunbathing naked is like David looking at Bathsheba, the suffering he undergoes is a bit like that of Job, and so forth.
Despite these spiritual references, this is either a fundamentally existential piece of work with a similar message to No Country for Old Men, or a frustrated critique of God for posing questions without providing answers. The ending in particular seems to be a joke on the audience that suggests that latter interpretation is correct. It is also interesting how the Coens seem to have lost their faith over the years, especially if one looks at the comparatively positive messages of, say, The Hudsucker Proxy and Oh Brother Where Art thou in relation to their more recent movies.
Nevertheless, it is also a warm, humane film, albeit one about which I must make the obligatory warnings about some swearing, drug abuse and nudity. In short: if you like the Coens you’ll love this. If you don’t, this is probably best avoided.
Director Grant Heslov’s The Men Who Stare at Goats boldly declares at the beginning that more of what follows is true than we will believe. Whether this staggering assertion is bought by the audience depends on one’s level of cynicism, but I find much of it strangely plausible.
Based on a book by Jon Ronson, this tells of reporter in Iraq Bob Wilton (Ewan McGregor) who meets Lyn Cassady (George Clooney). Lyn claims to be a former member of the US military’s First Earth Battalion, a unit that employed paranormal powers in their missions. In flashbacks their training is revealed with soldier turned hippie Bill Django (Jeff Bridges) and Larry Hooper (Kevin Spacey), who wants to employ these paranormal experiments for “dark side” purposes. The Star Wars reference is deliberate, because Lyn amusingly refers to himself as a “Jedi Warrior” throughout. Apparently Ronald Reagan loved the Star Wars films so allowed funding for this bizarre unit to continue for a long time.
The Men Who Stare at Goats wants to be a classic piece of war satire like MASH or Catch 22, but it fails on a number of counts. Although there are some big laughs the episodic narrative is less than compelling and it lacks a proper ending. Performances are all good, especially George Clooney and Jeff Bridges, but Kevin Spacey is underused and although Ewan McGregor tries as hard as he can with the material, the screenplay lets him down and his character arc remains unconvincing. Interestingly, there is also a very uncomfortable scene where a soldier who has undergone certain psychic experiments goes berserk and starts shooting at his colleagues in an army base. Watching this alarmingly prescient sequence in a US cinema after recent current events was interesting. The shock of the audience was palpable.
That said, The Men Who Stare at Goats is an interesting watch, but ultimately its lack of narrative drive makes it feel lightweight. Simon Dillon, November 2009.
For reasons I can’t fathom, Robert Zemeckis’ new version of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol has been greeted with decidedly lukewarm reviews. This is a great shame, as I found it really enjoyable and satisfying.
To be fair, I can’t get enough of A Christmas Carol. Dickens’ famous redemption story has been filmed many times, but I always get sucked into the story, regardless of how pedestrian the adaptation. From Alistair Sim’s classic 1951 take on the character (still the best version) to the Muppets variation, it’s a timeless tale that never seems to get boring. Ebenezer Scrooge’s journey from Christmas hating miser to benign benefactor via the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future is one that resonates deeply on every level, especially spiritually.
Zemeckis’ version is really Christmas Carol as rollercoaster ride, with motion capture technology utilised to tremendous effect. I appreciate that this “neither animation nor live action” technique is sneered at by some, but I think here it was a good choice. Like Zemeckis’ previous motion capture efforts The Polar Express and Beowulf, this will lose about a hundred times the impact if not seen in the cinema.
Jim Carrey is terrific as not only Scrooge but also the Christmas ghosts. There is also fine support from the likes of Gary Oldman (Marley) and Colin Firth (Fred). The adaptation is surprisingly faithful, with much of Dickens dialogue intact. There are a few non Dickens indulgences such as the ghost of Christmas present turning into a kind of rocket (the bit on the posters), but these are generally employed to good effect and to my mind do not detract from the human story, as has been claimed by many critics. Moreover, this is the most explicitly Christian version of this explicitly Christian story yet seen, with many additional elements making the message of redemption from damnation even more obvious. One such moment comes just after Marley’s ghost appears where Scrooge briefly sees the souls of the damned in all their misery.
Speaking of which, for all its family friendly Disney trappings, this is also the scariest version of A Christmas Carol yet produced. It is very pleasing indeed that this take returned to the gothic horror elements present in both the novel and in the Alistair Sim version. The ghosts – especially Marley and the ghost of Christmas future – are properly terrifying, so caution is recommended if you’re thinking about taking younger children to see it.
All in all, a very entertaining Christmas treat. As for the critics who didn’t like it I can only say: Bah humbug!
Simon Dillon, November 2009.
As animated features go 9 is certainly unusual. Whilst it will appeal to audiences who enjoy the weirdness of, say, Gilliam and Burton (who produces), generally speaking it’s too dark for children and will probably be avoided by most adults. This is a shame, as it’s a dark, flawed but fascinating piece of work.
The story is simple, and certainly could not be dragged out much longer than its trim 79 minute running time. In a post apocalypse future, where machines have wiped out mankind in a Terminator type scenario, a few numbered ragdoll-like creatures have somehow been endowed with life. Trying to unravel the mystery of their existence, 9 and the other puppets slowly discover the truth amid the ruins of a once great city, whilst trying to avoid the terrifying machines.
The vocal talents – including Elijah Wood, Jennifer Connelly, Martin Landau, Crispin Glover and Christopher Plummer – all do a good job. The animation is nothing less than staggering, equal to anything Pixar have created. Beautifully rendered images of incredible depth generate the required gloom and melancholy of the war ravaged city. The action is well directed and often scary, but the grim atmosphere also has a slightly surreal, fairy tale edge to it. This is appropriate, as spiritually the film explores weighty and interesting themes including death, redemption and the nature of the human soul. The idolatry of technology is condemned (something I always find easy to cheer) and bravery, sacrifice and the triumph of good over evil is extolled – particularly through the character of 1.
SPOILER AHEAD:
1 looks a bit like a bishop and is, at first, the least sympathetic character. He seems to symbolise organised religion in that he lives in an abandoned cathedral, dismisses science, wants to follow rules, and even betrays one of his own. But gradually these unpalatable elements are stripped away from him and he ultimately ends up making the greatest sacrifice of all. This is interesting, as it suggests beneath the religious trappings that are often the most visible elements of the Christian faith, there lies something beautiful on which a great future will be built.
On the evidence of this, writer/director Shane Acker will be a name to look out for in future, and this film is a fine calling card.
Simon Dillon, November 2009.
During the filming of The Imaginarium of Dr Parnassus, the death of Heath Ledger precipitated a last minute rewrite of the screenplay – a rewrite which ironically strengthened the film. Indeed, for reasons I shan’t go into in this review, it’s difficult to imagine Terry Gilliam’s latest without the character of Tony being played by four different actors.
The plot involves a travelling theatre company whose drunken owner Parnassus (Christopher Plummer), formerly a (Buddhist?) monk who told stories to keep the Universe in harmony, makes a deal with Mr Nick, aka the devil (Tom Waits). Said deal involves giving people who enter through a magic mirror into their own imaginations a chance to choose whether their souls will belong to Mr Nick or not. The outcome of this contest will determine if Parnassus will be able to keep his beloved daughter Valentina (Lily Cole). Complicating matters is disgraced children’s charity owner Tony (Heath Ledger, Jude Law, Colin Farrell and Johnny Depp), who feigns amnesia in order to hide with the theatre company. His presence unsettles the other performers including Anton (Andrew Garfield), who is in love with Valentina, and Percy the midget (Verne Troyer).
As a film, The Imaginarium of Dr Parnassus starts intriguingly, and gradually loses grip on its many ideas, ultimately degenerating into something of a mess. But it’s a fascinating, gloriously surreal, visually stunning mess. One thing it isn’t is dull, and as a director Gilliam’s vision is as bold and imaginative as ever. From a performance perspective this is a good ensemble effort. Heath Ledger’s death will mean his role is given more attention by some, but for me Lily Cole’s hugely likeable turn was particularly praiseworthy. Christopher Plummer is also very good, particularly in scenes where Mr Nick exploits his penchant for gambling.
On a spiritual note, this celebrates the power of storytelling, but from a vaguely New Age perspective where God is absent and even the devil doesn’t have much of a clue about what is going on in the cosmic scheme of things (in one scene he amusingly says he never could get the hang of black magic). It is also arguably a little blasphemous, as a previous bet between Mr Nick and Parnassus (“First to twelve disciples”) depicts Parnassus looking disturbingly similar to traditional images of Jesus. More positively, the film could also be interpreted as a fable about parents having to let go of their children when they become adults.
In final analysis, whilst this is perhaps a failure it’s a failure well worth watching. The Imaginarium of Dr Parnassus has plenty of weirdness and plenty of heart, but it doesn’t have a great deal of coherence. For Gilliam fans, that won’t necessarily be a bad thing.
Simon Dillon, October 2009.
Director Wes Anderson’s films are something of an acquired taste. Whilst I enjoyed Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums, I have serious problems with his take on Fantastic Mr Fox. A more appropriate title might have been Dysfunctional Mr Fox, since it’s frankly a lot less Roald Dahl and a lot more Wes Anderson. In places, it’s like watching an animated Royal Tenenbaums.
In the original novel, Mr Fox and his family’s desperate escape from vindictive farmers Boggis, Bunce and Bean is funny, scary and thrilling. In this, their plight is the result of Fox’s own foolishness because he 1) deliberately moves into the farmers neighbourhood and 2) antagonises them for adrenaline thrills in Ocean’s 11-ish heists (George Clooney voices Mr Fox). In the early sections of the film, Mr Fox gives up his chicken stealing ways when Mrs Fox announces she is pregnant. But because he doesn’t find his job as a newspaper columnist interesting, he secretly indulges in the afore-mentioned heists. To complicate matters, Fox’s son is jealous of his athletic cousin and thinks his father doesn’t love him.
All of this additional material unnecessarily complicates what follows, and one of the best things about the novel, a debate on the morality of stealing for survival, is lost entirely. The big problem with this film is it really doesn’t know who it’s aimed at. To be fair, my five year old son enjoyed it but I had read him the book. Children coming to this with no prior knowledge will – I suspect – find it doesn’t hold their attention, despite some fun climactic action in the finale that isn’t in the book.
On a technical level the stop motion animation is well done, but the talky screenplay and self-consciously quirky, smug jokes about things like existentialism really start to grate. The star studded vocal talents – including George Clooney, Bill Murray, Meryl Streep, Michael Gambon, Willem Dafoe, Owen Wilson and a cameo by banjo playing Jarvis Cocker – all do reasonably well, but again, the screenplay lets them down.
In short: a disappointment. One can only wonder how excellent this might have been in the hands of stop motion animation genius Nick Park.
Simon Dillon, October 2009.
Although initially this looks like it could be a conventional “crew-of-shipwrecked-yacht-happen-upon-spooky-abandoned-cruise-liner-in-the-Bermuda-triangle” type tale, writer/director Christopher Smith’s film turns out to be something considerably superior to standard horror fare.
For a start, by it establishes its classy credentials by eschewing obvious “behind-you” or “jump-out-of-your-skin” moments. Instead, it builds a sense of existential dread and impending doom through magnificent use of the deeply scary cruise liner – a kind of Overlook Hotel on the sea (including the 1930s design). The Shining is an obvious touchstone for this film, since it too indulges in bit of space/time continuum jiggery pokery. Another obvious influence is the fractured narrative of Memento. There’s a very clever third act which harks back in circular fashion to material seen in the opening sequence and solves the various mysteries in such a way that the sound of pennies dropping can be heard across the cinema.
To say much more will spoil it, but it’s worth noting the lead performance from Melissa George is particularly good. As the guilt-ridden mother of an autistic son, her desperation to escape the ship’s malevolent grasp is credible and convincing. In part this is thanks to the clever screenplay which will cause your brain to ache if you think about it too hard. And as with all good horror films, Triangle also makes good use of music and sound effects.
Some will dismiss this as a slick, well-crafted but ultimately inconsequential slice of horror hokum, but beneath the surface are issues like schizophrenia and the self-imposed purgatories that sometimes emerge out of parental guilt. Additionally, the ambiguous tone allows for interpretation at a number of levels, including a kind of post modern update on a particular piece of Greek mythology I won’t mention for fear of spoiling it.
In short – with the usual warnings for bad language and some strong bloody violence – this is highly recommended to horror fans. Tight, scary and emotionally engaging, it’s a rare genre piece that rises above its Twlight Zone type origins to become more than the sum of its parts.
Simon Dillon, October 2009.
Zombies have taken over the world and a handful of human survivors fight to, er, survive. It’s hardly an original premise, but Zombieland yet again proves that the zombie sub-genre has legs beyond the confines of George A Romero’s endless takes on the idea. More specifically, Zombieland is a fine addition to the zombie comedy – a sub, sub-genre if you will.
Whilst this certainly doesn’t skimp on gore and violence, it isn’t particularly scary. Director Reuben Fleischer is more concerned with the amusing interplay between the four main characters. Columbus (Jesse Eisenberg) is a nerdy, paranoid shut-in who seems to have survived the zombie holocaust on account of his obsessive compulsive tendencies. These now include a list of survival rules which are amusingly explained in voiceover and through amusing onscreen graphics.
Columbus joins up with Tallahasse (Woody Harrelson), a borderline psychotic who is determined to consume the world’s last twinkie bars before they go past their sell-by date. In between gruesome zombie killings they are twice duped by teenage girl con-artists Wichita and Little Rock (Emma Stone and Abigail Breslin respectively) with whom they also eventually join up. Together they head for California, where they meet up with a comedy legend whose identity and performance provide the most hysterically funny part of the story.
Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick’s spare, witty screenplay provides plenty of poignant moments amid the carnage and hilarity, particularly in one key revelation regarding Tallahasse. Oddly, as the characters learn to trust each other they become a kind of surrogate family to one another and as such this is a horror comedy with an unusual message. Zombie movies are usually political allegories, but this one seems to be about the alienation of the modern world and the toll it has taken on family life and friendships. During one scene where the characters play Monopoly, Columbus comments that one of the best things about a world overrun with zombies is that there are no more stupid Facebook status updates.
The most obvious film to compare this to is the excellent Shaun of the Dead, but whilst it shares that films dark sense of humour, this in places feels more like a western – a sub, sub, sub-genre perhaps, or am I getting too silly? Anyway, if zombie movies are your cup of tea (or bucket of blood) then you’re in for a treat, but I must also add a caution in addition to the obvious warning about gore for strong language.
That said, this is, all things considered, a fine addition to the ever expanding canon of zombie movies.
Simon Dillon, October 2009.
Is Creation the kind of pro-evolution propaganda the likes of Richard Dawkins would want to smash all box office records? On the face of it Dawkins might be disappointed. The filmmakers have insisted this is an honest, fact-based portrayal of the time when Charles Darwin, wracked with grief over the death of his beloved daughter, agonised over whether or not he should publish The Origin of Species. Framed within such a context, director Jon Amiel’s film becomes an interesting and personal affair that at least makes a vague concession to people of faith.
For instance, unlike some of his more militant colleagues, Darwin is portrayed as not necessarily thinking the death of religion is a good thing, even though he is gradually losing his own faith, much to the chagrin of his devoutly Christian wife Emma. Told through flashbacks, the story mostly focuses on his troubled relationship with his family as a result of his daughter’s tragic death. At the same time, there is much hand-wringing as to whether he should publish his controversial theories as Darwin flirts with perdition to suitably gripping dramatic effect.
Mercifully, one thing this film isn’t is boring. John Collee’s well-judged screenplay (based on Randal Keynes biography) is imaginative both structurally and as an insight into Darwin’s mind. Obviously, there is no way of knowing exactly how accurate this is, but dramatic licence is used to good effect. What really makes Creation worth recommending though is a tour-de-force performance by Paul Bettany in the lead role, and an excellent Jennifer Connelly as his long suffering wife. There is also good support from the likes of Benedict Cumberbatch, Toby Jones and Jeremy Northam. Expect a few Oscar nominations in acting categories if the film manages to get a release in the United States.
Which leads me to the inevitable spiritual section. I still believe in a literal seven day creation with a literal Adam and Eve, and I still believe the Bible says what it means and means what it says. But science should be the pursuit of truth wherever it leads. The problem is that scientists today who dare to suggest anything different to evolutionary theory, or suggest ways in which some of Darwin’s theories may have merely been the beginning of something that actually supported the Biblical viewpoint, are routinely silenced. That is not the pursuit of true science, but adherence to an authoritarian dogma no better than the alleged religious dogma that Darwin’s followers so vehemently opposed. I’m not going to debate the specifics for or against evolution in the context of this review, but I am going to comment on one particular point that always seems to crop up whenever evolutionists argue their case against intelligent design.
There’s a scene about half way through Creation where Darwin and his children go into the forest to observe various animals and come across a fox about to kill a rabbit. When the attack occurs, one of his children cries and begs him to make the fox stop, but Darwin responds as kindly as he can that the fox and its children have to eat to and that this is the natural order of things. I have lost count of the number of times I have heard similar comments from people watching nature documentaries that show animals killing their prey. Typically people think it’s horrible, but reassure themselves that it’s the natural order of things.
But from a Biblically accurate perspective, it isn’t the natural order of things. I get continually frustrated that Christians cannot answer the accusation that nature is cruel (wasps that lay eggs inside caterpillars, the various species of lethal intestinal worm, etc) beyond a patronising “it’s not our place to question God’s plan”. We live in a fallen world, and the animal kingdom was never meant to prey on itself. Before the fall of man, animals were vegetarians and so were people. God gave man permission to eat meat after Noah’s flood (not after the expulsion from the Garden of Eden as is commonly believed), but this was not his perfect will. It was a compromise in a fallen world. The Bible promises that one day the natural order as God intended will be restored and the lion will lie down with the lamb. Therefore, it’s perfectly natural to be repulsed and/or upset by animals killing one another (and man killing animals for that matter), as witnessing such scenes is a sad reminder of what the sin of man caused. For the record: I am not a vegetarian.
Because Creation fails to present the Christian perspective on this particular point to my satisfaction, and because it is ultimately pro-evolution in its argument, it is still to my mind propaganda. But it’s well acted, imaginative and hugely engaging propaganda, and as I’ve always said, I’d rather be offended than bored. For that reason, and because I think Christians generally need to brush up on their apologetics, I would recommend this film and hope it causes enough debate so Christians are empowered to effectively defend their beliefs.
Simon Dillon, October 2009.
Steven Soderbergh’s new film The Informant! opens with a based-on-a-true-story type blurb whilst admitting a certain amount of artistic licence. It’s then amusingly followed by the words “So there”, which are all the more amusing given the intricate, Machiavellian, would-be-unbelievable-if-they-weren’t-true plot developments that follow.
Based on the book by Kurt Eichenwald, the story centres around agri business giant ADM’s vice president Mark Whitacre (Matt Damon), who becomes a whistleblower for FBI agent Brian Shepherd (Scott Bakula) in a price fixing investigation. But as the film progresses it gradually becomes apparent that despite the price fixing Whitacre is 1) a compulsive liar and 2) an embezzler.
It’s an oddly gripping, blackly comical tale made particularly noteworthy by Matt Damon’s extraordinary performance. His hilarious inner monologues and the way he seems to deceive himself as well as those around him makes him plausible, disturbed, hysterically funny and hugely memorable to say the least. Alongside his turn in The Talented Mr Ripley, this is probably his best performance to date and further proof of his versatility. I fully expect him (and the film) to get an Oscar nomination.
Supporting performances are all good, especially from Scott Bakula who soon ensures any baggage from Quantum Leap is quickly forgotten. Also worthy of special mention is Melanie Lynskey as Mark’s loyal wife Ginger, who puts him up to telling the FBI about the price fixing in the first place and is ultimately wise (and loving) enough to tell him he must stop lying. Marvin Hamlisch’s music score is deliberately comical, and gently spoofs the music for spy series like Mission Impossible. Editing, cinematography and Scott Z Burns’ sharp screenplay are all spot on (despite the odd anachronism in the 1990s period setting).
From a moral/spiritual perspective, this is an extraordinary – and massively entertaining – cautionary tale that shows just how much trouble a lie can cause. In that respect it is to be highly commended (despite some strong language). In short, Soderbergh is well and truly back on form.
Simon Dillon, September 2009.
(NOTE: this is due for release in the UK in November 2009)
