With end-of-year list-making and awards-voting rapidly approaching, I'm trying to catch up on some notable movies of 2011 that I missed.
Dolan is a bit of a film-fest wunderkind; he made his acclaimed first feature, I Killed My Mother, at 20, and was only 21 when he wrote, directed, edited, costume-designed and starred in Heartbeats. It's quite self-assured for someone so young, but it's also a little overly enthusiastic, so in love with its own sensual visuals that it sometimes forgets to be about anything. Dolan and Chokri play two friends (one male, one female) who fall for the same guy and engage in a passive-aggressive rivalry for his affections (which he clearly has no intention of giving to either one). The characters are pretty shallow, and the movie sort of celebrates that, shooting them in vibrant colors and lush slow-motion, with wall-to-wall pop songs and classical concertos on the soundtrack. It makes for a luxurious but sometimes frustrating viewing experience; the interludes featuring unrelated characters monologuing about their own romantic troubles are often far more incisive than the movie's main thread, but Dolan does capture a sense of how it feels to be young and pointlessly in love.
I've been reading and hearing about this movie since it played Sundance back in January, so it was probably inevitable that I wouldn't be blown away when finally seeing it. But even if I wasn't wowed to the degree I might have been if I had experienced the movie without any hype, I was still substantially impressed, both with Olsen's acclaimed performance and with Durkin's filmmaking. This is an impeccably written, directed, shot and edited film, creating a mounting sense of disorientation and unease perfectly in line with its title character, who's physically escaped from a cult but clearly hasn't freed herself mentally from the group's influence. I like the unsettling ambiguity, although sometimes things are so vague that it's hard to figure out what Durkin is going for. But the confusion helps to align the audience with Martha's distressed mental state, and Durkin keeps you on edge all the way through the end.
This is the kind of movie that would star Gerard Butler and get dismissive reviews if it were made in the U.S., but because it's French it has an air of respectability that seems to have blinded some to the fact that it's just another ludicrous thriller with giant plot holes and no character development. Cavaye was behind the French movie that was remade in the U.S. as The Next Three Days, and Point Blank is similarly melodramatic and manipulative, with the main character's pregnant wife constantly in peril. There are a number of really contrived fake-outs, and while some of the chase scenes are exciting, the whole thing is completely hollow and forgettable. I expect a Hollywood remake shortly.
I liked McCarthy's first movie, 2003's The Station Agent, but despite their acclaim his next two haven't really impressed me. I thought The Visitor was predictable and preachy, and Win Win has the same problems, presenting a low-key version of a familiar inspirational story, about a troubled guy who learns what's important in life thanks to his relationship with a wayward kid. It's clear that Giamatti's lawyer/wrestling coach is going to take in his elderly client's teenage grandson, and it's clear that the kid's going to be a star wrestler. McCarthy's approach lacks broad sentimental moments, but it also keeps things so subdued that it lacks all passion and excitement. It's too restrained to be rousing, and too obvious to be challenging.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
On the 13th of each month, I write about a movie whose title contains the number 13.