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March 18, 2010


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2010-03-18

Challenging psychological drama

Antichrist isn't the easiest film to watch - but the experience is worth it

A+

ANTICHRIST
Until March 21, Cinematheque

Forget what you may have read: this is a great film.

Lars von Trier's Antichrist was greeted with a mixed reaction at the 2009 Cannes Film Festival. Critical opinion is split: the movie holds a 49% rating at Rottentomatoes.com.

This doesn't prove anything, but it isn't surprising. Antichrist is a deeply challenging film. It confronts nihilism and human despair head-on, without flinching; it's thus perhaps inevitable that many in the audience will.

Be warned: this film contains almost indescribable violence. Yet it's not the freak show the movie's press may suggest. The film isn't merely saturated with senseless gore; the violence has purpose and, when the characters commit it, they have reasons.

Those reasons, however, are open to interpretation. Like all great films, Antichrist allows for multiple meanings. It's quite possible to make sense of it on various levels. What meaning the film holds for you depends upon exactly how you evaluate what's onscreen.

Antichrist suggests a frightening existential question: are human beings simply evil? The character known only as She (Charlotte Gainsbourg) begins to wonder after her son accidentally dies while she and her husband (Willem Dafoe) are making love.

The couple is grief-stricken, yet the loss may have affected the wife more profoundly. She blames herself. The husband, a therapist, tells her she cannot, and tries to treat her. It does not occur to him that what she really needs is for him to be her husband.

They retreat to their cabin, called Eden. She confides her fear of the woods, of nature; it seems dark, senseless, malevolent. It seems that way to the husband as well, in disturbing visions that may or may not be real. Yet he tries to remain rational.

Too rational, perhaps. The wife protests he doesn't love her. He doesn't seem to feel. She becomes abusive. Is she trying to provoke a reaction?

And what about the dissertation she spent time at the cabin writing, on the subject of witchcraft and misogyny? Has she internalized the very self-hating ideas she intended to dispel? Does she see herself as an evil being, born of an evil world?

Some think this is the conclusion von Trier reaches - but that's not necessarily so. What's important is that She may conclude that. She cannot make sense of their tragedy and, when all sense has left, with it goes all meaning.

While Antichrist hints at darker possibilities, the film functions as a spellbinding psychological drama. It's possible to view the film purely as human tragedy - which is to say, the characters' own personal flaws and the self-destruction to which they lead.

I know many would rather not see a film like this. But, in addition to being entertained, we deserve serious films that examine serious subjects.

We owe it to ourselves to be confronted with profound questions about human existence. We owe it to ourselves to reflect. Antichrist may shake you - but that's a good thing.
— Kenton Smith

Resurrected from the ashes

A master filmmaker's unfinished tour-de-force has been granted new life

A-

HENRI-GEORGES CLOUZOT'S INFERNO
March 19 -25, Cinematheque

What an ingenious, tantalizing thing this film does: it gives us a semblance of what a famously unfinished, would-be masterpiece might have looked like.

Among film lovers, French director Henri-Georges Clouzot occupies an honoured place in the great directors' pantheon. His most famous films, The Wages of Fear (1953) and Les diaboliques (1955), have been remade by Hollywood - as Sorcerer (1977) and Diabolique (1996), respectively - and influenced countless others.

L'Enfer, or Inferno, was intended as a psychological study of a husband's descent into jealous madness. Clouzot meticulously prepared the film, cast then-star Romy Schneider and prevailed in also casting his desired leading man, Serge Reggiani.

Then everything unraveled. On location, Clouzot fell behind schedule, fought with his actors and crew, and indulged in endless shooting. Reggiani walked off the set and Clouzot suffered a heart attack. The film was never finished and the raw footage went unseen for 40 years.

What this documentary has done is use that footage, together with stagings of never-filmed scenes, to create some sense of what Clouzot may have been after. Obviously we have no idea how Clouzot might have cut the film. Nonetheless, I prefer the documentarians' best reckoning to nothing - and this looks like it would have been a classic.

Directors Serge Bromberg and Ruxandra Medrea give us a fascinating insight into Clouzot's creative process. Like Hitchcock, Clouzot was all about the preparation: he filmed scads of test footage, looking for striking ways to visualize his hero's point of view.

Some of the techniques may be a bit dated, but they're still effective. Also like Hitchcock, Clouzot was unafraid of being overtly stylistic. He was the equivalent of a Quentin Tarantino or a Sam Raimi.

So what happened? Perhaps the unusually elaborate preparation is the tipoff. There are interviews with Clouzot's former collaborators, one of whom relates how the crew started wondering if Clouzot really wanted to finish the film at all.

Hitchcock famously said he hated shooting a film because he had already shot it in his imagination. Not only was the production phase boring for him, it was perhaps unsatisfying; the actual film could never be as good as what was in his head.

Something similar may have happened to the equally perfectionist Clouzot. Maybe he was trapped by his own high expectations. Or perhaps he didn't exactly know what he wanted; providing himself with limitless tests and endless choices, he was incapable of finally making any decisions.

It didn't help that the film's financiers, the executives of Columbia Pictures, were willing to essentially give Clouzot budgetary carte blanche. Ironically, they may have sown the film's ruin by giving its director too much freedom.

And that's the other thing: this doc shows how easily a film can go south. Making a movie is a monumental undertaking but the smallest cracks can bring the whole thing crumbling down. Sometimes it's out of anyone's hands. This film convincingly suggests the extinguishment of Inferno was the result of a tragic flaw.
— Kenton Smith

Love or hate him...

...Roman Polanksi's The Ghost Writer is a masterful thriller

THE GHOST WRITER
Opens March 19

Consider merely the opening and closing scenes of this thriller. They're the work of a master director. What tremendous style, humour and effortlessness. The final shot alone may go down as a classic.

I won't spoil it for you. Rather, let me set the stage. The film begins with a ferry docking in stormy conditions; cut to the hold, which empties, vehicle by vehicle, until a lone SUV is left behind, centre frame.

A forklift arrives; there's a nice chuckle as it removes the abandoned vehicle and the car alarm goes off. End sequence with a body washed up on a beach, bobbing in the surf.

With these few, spare, direct shots, Roman Polanski's The Ghost Writer establishes a compelling mystery and an ominous mood, all with a mischievous tongue in cheek. The director of Rosemary's Baby, Chinatown and The Pianist still has it.

The body in question is that of a ghost writer, hired to turn the crappily penned memoirs of an ex-British PM into bestselling gold. The former leader, Adam Lang (Pierce Brosnan), is facing possible war crimes charges. Into the tumult of his household enters a ringer (Ewan Macgregor), who remains unnamed throughout the film.

It's a lucrative opportunity for 'the Ghost': a quarter of a million stands to be made for a month's work. It's also intoxicating being close to Lang, a man in the midst of a far-reaching scandal. Unfortunately for the Ghost, it may also become deadly.

What happened to his predecessor and why? Is Lang guilty of abetting the torture of innocent terror suspects? And if so, was anyone pulling the strings offstage?

We share in the Ghost's imprudent curiosity every step of the way, discovery by discovery - until we suddenly realize, at the same time he does, how deeply he's stepped in it. Oh, but how expertly Polanski reels us in.

Yes, the man is an unrepentant child-fucker. And some of his peers, including even the great Martin Scorsese, have earned a place in the annals of douchebaggery for their recent "FREE ROMAN!" doo-doo.

Many may choose not to patronize a movie directed by such a man. That's more than legitimate. But it has nothing to do with whether the movie is any good.

In point of fact, The Ghost Writer is extremely good: it's stylish, amusing and suspenseful. The attention to detail is delicious, right down to the casting of juicy little character bits. It's a surprise to see James Belushi playing a publisher, but it quickly becomes funny - on purpose.

Indeed, The Ghost Writer could almost be considered a comedy of sorts. It's like Polanski's at play. The movie, based on a bestseller by Robert Harris, isn't quite masterpiece material, but it's great to see directors swing like this.
— Kenton Smith

'It's got guns - and brains!'

Green Zone won't require you to think?- but it won't insult your intelligence

GREEN ZONE
Now Playing

Action movies, I like. It's stupid movies I hate. Therefore, it's a shame so many action movies are stupid.

Green Zone is a smart action movie. What does that mean? For one, it doesn't stretch incredulity to the breaking point: the action is more or less believable, even if improbable.

Plus, the movie has ideas - about actual current affairs, no less. Here's an action flick that manages to be both thrillingly escapist and relevant. It eats its cake, yo.

In fact, the more you're invested in the ongoing Iraq war, the greater urgency Green Zone may hold. There's an undercurrent of real anger in this movie, directed at the Bush administration's flim-flammery over justifying the invasion.

That anger is embodied in Chief Roy Miller, played by Matt Damon. It's 2003, and he's an earnest soldier dedicated to his mission: finding Saddam Hussein's WMDs. That's why it's so baffling when, again and again, his intelligence leads him on wild goose chases.

Miller's convinced there's something wrong and finds a confidante in CIA spook Martin Brown (Brendon Gleeson), a man whose insistence on retaining the Iraqi army has made him unpopular. Pentagon neo-con Clark Poundstone (Greg Kinnear) doesn't want to hear about risking civil war: "We're not looking back," he declares.

Miller's obsession puts him on a collision course with Poundstone's team of black ops mercenaries. Soon he's chasing a fugitive Iraqi general who may hold the key to everything - which is precisely why other parties want him dead. A race for the truth is on.

Despite a shaky-cam foot chase that echoes a similar scene in The Bourne Ultimatum, this movie better resembles a Tom Clancy thriller, not only because of its themes, but also because of the Everyman quality of Damon's protagonist. Jason Bourne he's not, and it may be more fun that way: he has no super-agent training to save his ass.

The other movie that came to mind during Green Zone was The Fugitive. Like that flick, this picture's essentially all momentum. Likewise, it does an entertaining job of perpetually keeping Damon just one step ahead of his rivals. It also depends more on character than the average action movie to drive the story.

Green Zone looks amazing. Although shot in Spain and Morocco, its setting always feels 100% authentic - at times, I honestly wondered if at least the second unit had visited Baghdad.

Unless movies take us to Pandora or Victorian England, it's rare for anyone to credit the design team, however, a huge shout out should be given to production designer Dominic Watkins and his crew. Making a real-life location look convincing may pose an even greater challenge than a purely fantastic one.

It's common to hear people say, "I don't want to have to think during a movie." That's the thing about Green Zone: you don't have to think. The movie is straightforward and exciting as shit. Yet it might just make you think on your way out. Talk about a neat trick.
— Kenton Smith

Funny, sweet - and smart

She's Out of My League surprises by revealing both a heart and a brain

A-

SHE'S OUT OF MY LEAGUE
Now Playing

This movie is unlikely to inspire a lot of penetrating critical analysis. Yet it seems fitting to apply at least one tenet: does it succeed at what it tries to do?

She's Out of My League wants to make us laugh - uproariously, even. Mission accomplished. It's just funny. There's one gag with a dog and an unexpected discharge that I daresay is equal to the hair gel bit in There's Something About Mary.

Another scene has the hero's buddy prove his loyalty by performing far beyond the call of dutiful friendship, in a most. personal fashion. This particular business had the audience howling.

But She's Out of My League turns out to be more than just funny. It's also unexpectedly sweet and wise. Here's a comedy that illustrates that even movies many will see for sheer dumb fun don't have to be brain dead.

Kirk (Jay Baruchel) is, let's face it, scrawny, homely, works a crappy job in airport security and drives a shitbox. His ex-girlfriend is still warmly welcomed at his parents' house - with her new boyfriend. His friends inform him he's a "moodle": a man-poodle that women think is cute, but won't bop.

Put in numeric terms, Kirk's lunkhead buddy Stainer (T.J. Miller) informs him he's about a five. So what chance does he have with Molly (Alice Eve), a "hard 10?" Well, actually, his chances seem pretty good for a while: Molly likes him, asks him out, and even likes his rod - his car, that is (ho ho ho).

The question is whether Kirk lets his insecurities get in his own way. And this is where the movie's thoughtfulness reveals itself.

Romantic comedies, pretty much as a rule, involve obstacles to keep the lovers apart. Too often they're manufactured crises - and indeed this movie seems to arrive at its own with an awkward visit from Molly's parents.

Turns out this is a red herring. The real is one of character: Molly's perceived perfection only heightens Kirk's feelings of inadequacy. For that matter, Molly hasn't been completely honest with herself about why she started dating Kirk to begin with.

This all comes out in an aborted love scene that's actually quite emotionally fraught - and not only that, but believable. The ejaculatory fantasies of many guys are fixated on women like Molly, but what would they do if faced with actually getting naked in front a "10"? Most likely as Kirk does: obsess.

The supporting cast is hilarious, particularly Miller as the sometimes cretinous Stainer. A close second is Kyle Bornheimer, as Kirk's possibly more cretinous brother, whose blunt comparison of his own wife to Molly is one of the movie's best lines.

There is, of course, no such thing as a scale of 1 to 10, as if it's possible to grade a human being like a side of beef. The truly happy people in this world have figured this out. The happiness of the lovers in She's Out of My League depends on whether they figure this out, too.
— Kenton Smith

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