AMPAS releases doc shortlist

Press release here. 15 titles vie for 5 Best Documentary nominations, including what is still (for me at least) the best movie of the year, The Cove. The documentary branch is not as problematic as other specialty branches (cough-ForeignFilmBranch-cough!), but thay have been known to make some quirky decisions. I remain confident that they won't miss the boat on The Cove.

Agnes Varda The Beaches of Agnes
Anders Ostergaard Burma VJ
Mark Monroe, Paula DuPre Pesman, Fisher Stevens The Cove,
James D. Stern, Adam Del Deo Every Little Step
Pete McCormack Facing Ali
Robert Kenner, Elise Pearlstein Food, Inc.
Mai Iskander Garbage Dreams
Mark N. Hopkins The Most Dangerous Man in America: Daniel Ellsberg and the Pentagon Papers
Andrew Thompson, Lucy Bailey Mugabe and the White African
Greg Baker Sergio
Bill Guttentag, Dan Sturman Soundtrack for a Revolution
Andy Abrahams Wilson Under Our Skin
Matt Tyrnauer Valentino The Last Emperor
Rabecca Cammisa Which Way Home

Review - Julie & Julia

Quick review for Julia & Julia, which I just caught up with.

Unlike her earlier works (which relied just a bit too heavily on writing gimmicks and funny-but-unlikely dialogue), all of the humour of Nora Ephron's Julie & Julia comes straight from the authenticity of the performances. There's no scenery chewing or comic extravagance, but the sheer believability of the characters and how they speak/interact with each other gives this film a heart that compensates for the relatively low-key comedy. Meryl Streep, of course, knocks it out of the park as Julia Child. The presence and personality that bubbles forth from her performance is instantly appealing, especially her assertively chipper line delivery and extremely infectious laugh. Equal to Streep's turn is Stanley Tucci, who plays Child's husband Paul with natural warmth and tenderness. Their on-screen chemistry is a delight to watch. Not quite as enjoyable but every bit as convincing is the relationship between Julie Powell and her husband Mark (Amy Adams and Chris Messina), whose lives in contemporary New York parallel those of Julia and Paul's in post-war France. Some may accuse it of being a fluffy picture, which is certainly is, but the performances are wonderful to behold. Alexandre Desplat contributes a feather-light musical score that seems every bit as bouncy and airy as Ms. Child herself.

Meryl Streep's nomination in Best Actress seems certain at this point, but beyond that I wouldn't count on too much awards attention. Consideration for Stanley Tucci is definitely due, but they may go for his darker turn in the upcoming The Lovely Bones instead.

*** out of ****

Baldwin and Martin to host Oscars

It's Complicated co-stars Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin (a previous host) have been chosen to assume hosting duties for next February's ceremony. Sounds like an interesting duo, although I would have been more excited if it were Steve Martin and Tina Fey, much like many others after their delightful presentations at last year's show.

Predictions - November 2009

Some minor changes to the sidebar, most notably the removal of Amelia everywhere except Cinematography and Costume Design. It's been replaced by The Last Station, which I have also put down in Lead Actress (Mirren) and Supporting Actor (Plummer). I've also made room for A Serious Man on the Best Picture list by removing Up (I still can't see the Academy giving animation the love it deserves). Only a few tweaks in the craft categories.

Review - Amelia

Amelia is a movie that left me in tears. Not in a good way though. These were tears of boredom. Amelia does not fly. This painfully by-the-book biopic tries to keep fresh by using the old flashback/flash-forward structure we've seen soooooo many times before, and the result is unsurprisingly a dull ride. Even the “cloudy” transitions between chronologies quickly become stale and repetitive. Shame on writer/producer Ronald Bass for his lazily-paced “plot” and cringe-inducing dialogue (ie: “We can't finance your flying unless we make enough money to finance your flying.”) No shit, Sherlock.

Despite the participation of some very talented actors, every performance comes across as a stilted and failed attempt at melodrama (Hilary Swank was extra obnoxious due to her sickeningly sappy voiceovers). Speaking of melodrama, someone should have told composer Gabriel Yared to tone it down. His score is overzealous and way too ubiquitous.

If this gets a single Oscar nomination I'll blow a gasket, but never put it past the Academy to make a disgusting decision. I'm taking Amelia off the sidebar, but I still feel nervous about it sneaking in somewhere it doesn't belong.

* out of ****

This Halloween, I'll be going out as

Now all I need to do is add the eyepatch and pirate moustache and I'm all set!

Review - Antichrist

It's the most wonderful time of year! I've been catching up on my all my seasonal favourites, including Rocky Horror Picture Show, Alien, Beetle Juice, Carrie, etc. (check out my personal top ten Halloween flicks posted last year). In the spirit of the season, I ventured to a not-so-local arthouse theatre to take in the highly-discussed Antichrist, freshly opened in limited release.

Lars von Trier's self-proclaimed “masterpiece” has drawn a lot of attention to itself since premiering to an audience of mortified critics at the Cannes film festival in April. The reaction was so vitriolic that “Antichrist” immediately became one of the must-see movies of 2009. However, while a picture with some real daring is usually welcome, I still wouldn't recommend this one.

Despite Mr. von Trier's ballsy claims about himself and his film, a masterpiece it's anything but. Most of it is poorly edited and undisciplined, relying heavily on psychological pretensions that just don't fly and mythological/religious implications that lead nowhere (the Three Beggars theme, for instance, is dis-satisfyingly unresolved). And once the story degenerates to its much-talked-about and grotesque final chapters, you get the impression that Lars is just being excessive for the sake of it. Accusations about the film being misogynistic aren't entirely misplaced either, as Charlotte Gainsbourg's character commits a gruesome self-mutilation because her grief-baked mind believes women by nature to be evil.

Yet for all its amusing and not-so-amusing foibles, Antichrist has a couple of ingredients that are truly brilliant and deserved better than the final product. Specifically, I refer to Charlotte Gainsbourg, who gives the best performance in a bad movie you're likely to see all year, as a mother stricken with anguish and guilt following the loss of her young son in a tragic accident. Said tragic accident is also a high point for the film; An elegiac prologue, beautifully shot in slow-motion black-and-white by recent Oscar winner Anthony Dod Mantle. If only the rest of the movie was as good as that one exceptional sequence.

I'm sure Antichrist will find an audience in arthouses around the country, but I still won't hesitate to say “no Oscar for you!”. It's definitely not up the Academy's alley. I'd have to agree with them on this one.

** out of ****

Review - The Informant!

Matt Damon is wonderfully funny and surprisingly layered as Mark Whitaker in The Informant!, the true story of a man who suddenly becomes a mole for the FBI, making secret recordings of meetings which discuss price fixing in the lysine industry, only to have it all turn against him as the ensuing legal investigations uncover more of Whitaker's shady dealings than we bargained for. The key to Damon's illustration of Whitaker's character is the ubiquitous voice-over narration that allows us to sample his mile-a-minute and perpetually wandering mind. It's later revealed that there is a medical explanation to his quirks and his chronic lying. It isn't until this revelation that we can fully appreciate the complexity of Damon's performance, which is sneakily packaged in a somewhat corny comic turn.

Indeed, Stephen Soderbergh seems to embrace corniness in this film (no pun intended), as much of the comedy comes from Whitaker's own self-aggrandizement and bemusement in his new role as an FBI informant (with an exclamation mark!). It's rarely side-splitting, and begins to lag nearer the end of the movie, but it's far better that way than had Soderbergh tried desperately to tack on laughs that aren't needed. His script is appropriately muted and droll at the same time. Assisting with the levity of this film are the fun and delightfully cheesy rhythms of Marvin Hamlisch, who creates a kind of “bipolar” mock-up between retro spy movies and country bluegrass, a more thematically relevant combination than meets the ear.

There is a chance AMPAS may overlook this on account of it being too light, but consideration is certainly due for Damon, who should at the very least be up for a Golden Globe (Musical/Comedy). It also wouldn't surprise me if the Academy's music branch nominates Hamlisch, as they usually make room for a comedy in Original Score.

*** out of ****

Review - Where the Wild Things Are

If you're unfamiliar with Maurice Sendack's classic children's book Where the Wild Things Are, here's the premise: our young troublesome Max, upset with his mother, takes a boat journey to a fantasy island where rough-housing beasts make him their king, until he decides to go home. That's all there really is, but the layers of meaning that Sendack extracted from this seemingly bare premise are remarkable, and earned his book the much-deserved acclaim it enjoys today. As wonderful as it is, however, the ingenious simplicity of Where the Wild Things Are does not seem to lend itself to a feature-length screen adaptation. The poignancy of Sendack's book was in its brevity, and even though the film is relatively short (about an hour and a half), that charm is unfortunately lost.

Yet, there are things gained in Spike Jonze's and Dave Eggars' script. In Sendack's book, the eccentric illustrations of the wild things make it hard to think of them as human, but they do indeed represent the feelings of anger and fear inside everyone. Jonze and Eggars have humanized the wild things and given each one a personality of their own, representing different facet's of Max's psyche. You can hardly expect young children to fully appreciate such Freudian implications (some of the kids at the theater I attended seemed off-put to indifferent), but Jonze has to be commended for not dumbing it down.

He must also be applauded for choosing to go with real costumes/puppets for the wild things instead of pure boring CGI. The physical connection between Max and the wild things establishes an intimacy that couldn't have existing otherwise. Thumbs up to the creature designers. Not to be forgotten is Lance Accord for his beautiful photography, and musician/singer Karen O for her dulcet tones. She makes the soundtrack one of the year's best.

For all its ambition, “Where the Wild Things Are” didn't leave me particularly warmed or fulfilled, but nor did it leave me cold. I don't feel the Academy will go nuts for it; maybe a nod for Karen O's song “All is Love”, possibly one for Cinematography.

*** out of ****

Review - Bright Star

Early on in Jane Campion’s latest period drama Bright Star, Fannie Brawne says of John Keats’ poem “Endymion” that she could not love it completely. In regards to Miss Campion’s film, I feel somewhat similar, but what prevents me from falling in love with Bright Star is the same thing that causes me to admire it. Being a writer with a terrific sense of how it will play on screen, Campion has developed an elegant yet understated script, placing emphasis on words and subtle facial expressions. Some may mistake this for being dry, but such is not the case. The love in the film is chaste, but this adds to its devastating romanticism. It is more sensual than sexual. That Brawne and Keats never consummate their relationship may be a tad dissatisfying, but it heightens the importance of their intimate conversations, their playful flirting, and of course, the immortal poetry with which Campion gives the film its much-needed flavour.

In keeping with the screenplay’s muted tenderness, the aesthetic qualities of Bright Star are serviceable but not flashy. Janet Patterson’s production design is appropriately minimalist, as is Greig Frasier’s pretty photography. Mark Bradshaw’s music is not immediately memorable, but still lovely. What does draw attention to itself, however, are Patterson’s costumes. Brawne, something of a 19th century fashionista, is often clothed in pinks and reds, helping her to stand out amidst the greys and blues that usually dominate the frame.

But the fancy clothing would be worthless if not filled by a strong actor, and that’s just what Abbie Cornish is. Her performance is the showiest one of the cast, but she never embellishes. Impressive as well is Paul Schneider as Keats’ caddish friend Charles Brown, who is annoyed with Fannie for distracting the brilliant poet from his work.

This is the sort of project that seems right up Oscar’s alley. Noms for Picture, Director, Original Screenplay, Actress, Cinematography, Score, Art Direction, and Costume Design seem quite probable.

*** out of ****