#83, 11/18 – No Country for Old Men (2007) (tofw)

My fascination with Cormac McCarthy is pretty recent. It started just this winter (late February), when The Road came up in several different conversations and I decided I had to give it a look. Soon after I’d eventually read that novel (in June, for my book club), I was hanging out with a friend from book club and a friend of hers who loved McCarthy’s earlier stuff but who really didn’t care for his more recent work. And I’m not sure why or how, given my take-it-or-leave-it attitude about The Road, but that whole conversation made me interested in experiencing more of the author’s work.

So, No Country for Old Men is the first McCarthy-inspired work I’ve seen in this, my era of McCarthy fascination (hmmm, I almost wrote McCarthy-ism there). And I’m itching to read the novel now, because I’m wonder what liberties, if any, the brothers Coen took with the material.

As heretical as this may seem, I’m not a big Coen brothers fan. Oh, I like most of what I’ve seen from them, but whenever I hear they’ve come out with something new I usually can’t seem to make myself care. Which is why I was surprised when I walked out of this and thought "flaws and all, this is my favorite Coen brothers movie yet". How that happened I’m not really sure.

Maybe I was in the mood for something icily dispassionate and yet incredibly suspenseful. No Country for Old Men is certainly both of those. Perhaps I was taken in by Javier Bardem’s absolutely perfect performance, or Josh Brolin’s, or Tommy Lee Jones’s. Or maybe it was something else. I really don’t know.

But I’m pretty sure I liked it more than Fargo. Yes, seriously. And I know I’m going to read the book soon. Well, sooner or later. I think I’ll tackle Blood Meridian and The Border Trilogy first.

#82, 11/12 – Gone Baby Gone (2007) (tofw)

Not my cup of tea, really. There were scattered moments which caught my interest, and I thought the big question at the end was certainly good fodder for discussion. But I found it mostly to be a very average thriller set in Boston. Of course, the last average thriller set in Boston I saw won a Best Picture Oscar, so….

#81, 11/10 – Lars and the Real Girl (2007) (tofw)

I have been rather critical (mostly offline, but occasionally in this space) of the recent American independent movies which seemed to consider "quirk", in and of itself, a virtue. I could name a laundry list of culprits, many of them well-considered things, which I find ultimately unsatisfying beyond a few basic chuckles because there’s simply no there there. (Worse, many of these films are mean-spirited exercises in "comedy", something I’ve little patience for.) But I guess it’s better to speak of a "quirky" American independent movie which managed to have something very interesting and satisfying inside of it.

Honestly, I was skeptical about Lars and the Real Girl. I’d first heard of it a few hours before I saw it, and the premise seemed…. bad. But Ryan Gosling, Emily Mortimer, and Patricia Clarkson are all favorites of mine and so I had to seriously consider any movie which features all three of them. I’m glad I did.

The actors (especially Gosling, who has now given three of the most wonderful performances I have seen in recent years) all bring something wonderful to this film, there is no doubt, but the real beauty is in the story and its tone. Here, thankfully, was a quiet, touching, human piece of work which eschewed the cheap pranks the movie’s basic premise seemed to make all too tempting. Every time I braced myself for the kind of joke I have grown to expect from recent "quirky" American independent movies, it didn’t come. It never did. And that’s worthy of some kudos.

But, just in case I’m overemphasizing my admiration for the movie’s restraint, that’s not what I adore the most about it. Lars and the Real Girl worked for me because it was genuine and sincere. It made you empathize with its central character, by never losing focus of his humanity (or his dignity, frankly), even in the midst of the story’s splendid absurdity. Maybe I’m getting sappy in my old age, but as the movie started its final reel, you could hear sniffles all throughout the theatre. I honestly can’t remember the last time I heard a Saturday night audience so affected by a movie which wasn’t, in my opinion, being manipulative or cloying. 

Really, maybe I am getting sappy (or maybe I’ve spent too much time watching basic Hollywood movies this year and my expectations have suffered as a result), but I consider this a beautiful, soulful piece of filmmaking.

#80, 11/4 – American Gangster (2007) (tofw)

The great movie mobsters are all quite interesting characters, aren’t they? Edward G. Robinson’s Rico Bandello, James Cagney’s (absolutely insane) Cody Jarrett, and even De Niro’s (interpretation of) Al Capone were all very captivating people. And Denzel’s Frank Lucas is in that very same company, if you ask me.

I liked American Gangster, though probably not as much as I’d hoped. All the same, it was an enjoyable movie with some impressive bits of storytelling (though I admittedly got lost during one important scene early on, and so did the friend I saw it with). I’m especially happy with how it was largely framed inside the issues of organized-crime-as-big-business and police corruption.

Which leads me, of course, to The Wire, a show which deals so beautifully with those two issues. And I don’t know anything about real life Frank Lucas beyond what the film’s epilogue told me, quite honestly, but I think Denzel’s portrayal has (what I would presume are entirely unintentional) shades of Stringer Bell. So it’s kind of funny to me that Idris Elba (Stringer himself) plays someone Lucas has to overcome at the start of the film.

Briefly back to my overall impression, one of these days I’m going to figure out why I love Ridley Scott’s earlier movies and only kinda like his more recent efforts. It’s definitely not a function of when I saw them, since I thought very highly of The Duellists, a movie I only saw for the first time two and a half years ago (see?). I really do want to figure it out. It may be a really simple explanation, but I’d like to figure it out all the same.

(OK, and a totally unrelated bit here. I wandered over to IMDB to see whether Michael Haneke has done anything recently, because I’ve been very, very out of the film loop recently. And what do I see but he’s made a remake of his own Funny Games for the United States with Naomi Watts? That’s gonna go over like a lead balloon. As much as I love Haneke and as brilliant a critique of the Hollywood thriller as I think Funny Games is, that’s got to be one of the most puzzling filmmaker choices I’ve seen in ages. )

#79, 10/13 – Michael Clayton (2007) (tofw)

At some point early last year I realized the movies I’m responding to most positively these days are those which didn’t run afoul of some very basic principles of mine. What those principles happen to be is sort of unimportant (if you know me and are curious, ask), but examples of films which worked perfectly for me in this regard include Ugetsu, Night and the City, The Double Life of Veronique,Children of Men, and The Lives of Others.

Yes, I’m saying I liked Michael Clayton just about that much. Or, to put it another way: The reaction everyone else had to The Departed (a movie which, let’s not forget, I think is deliriously overrated) is what I had for Michael Clayton. I haven’t seen a single review for it yet, but it’s a movie which I’m sure is (deservedly) getting mentioned in the same breath as my favorite 70s thrillers, and that’s great company to be in.

While I was sitting in the theatre watching everything unfold I couldn’t help comparing Clooney’s Clayton with another character he played recently, namely Bob Barnes.  In fact, I find the similarities between the two characters very interesting indeed, and my growing respect for Clooney (yes, it is funny now for me to look back at how he had to win me over two years ago) comes from his ability to play these disillusioned janitors as well as he does.

I really need more movies like this. Also, I need more movies with Tilda Swinton. Neither of these things should surprise anyone.

Be careful what you wish for and all that. Before I saw this I sent a text message to the friend I’d seen the first two movies with where I said, essentially, “I just hope it’s better than Ultraviolet was”.

I shouldn’t complain. It was better than Ultraviolet. But it turns out there’s quite a lot of surface area (like, about 386,100 square miles) between “better than Ultraviolet” and “barely satisfactory action movie”. Resident Evil:Extinction lives in that vast space. Which isn’t to say it sucked. Well, wait. No, that’s exactly what I’m saying. It was tired, tiring, and just silly filmmaking. No imagination. No entertainment. I can gawk at Milla and Ali Larter all day. But… I dunno. It just didn’t have any real life to it.

To me the most interesting moments came during the previews when I learned of other impending films. Somehow, for instance, I’d not known that they’d adapted the classic Hitman computer game franchise into a movie. Starring Timothy Oliphant. Oh, how every bone in my body is crying out that it’ll be awful, and yet I know full well that I’m going to see it. Probably in the theatres. Sad.

Sadder still, I’d not known that Marvel had finally gotten around to adapting Iron Man for the big screen. Or that Robert Downey Jr. was gonna play Tony Stark. As strangely inspired a piece of casting as I find that, I am… pretty sure I’ll be giving that one a pass. Well, I guess we’ll see how I feel next summer. I do like my junk from time to time, after all.

And last but not least, I was also surprised to learn (I really do not pay attention to film chatter—in case you haven’t noticed) that 30 Days of Night was also on its way to a theatre near me. I’m not sure what to think about that one, though I’m happy to see Melissa George is in it. Yeah. I’ll probably give it a try. Even though I’m sure I’ll regret it.

Why is it that I’m only seeing mainstream movies in the theatres these days, anyway?

As is probably obvious by now, sometimes I watch a movie and think to myself “gee, this reminds me of a movie I’d pretty much forgotten about until this moment and I ought to go back and give it another watch.” In this case, I couldn’t help being reminded of The Proposition which I’d described last year as “a scummy, brutal movie about scummy, brutal people doing scummy, brutal things.” I think I stand by that, but in little and big ways this version of 3:10 to Yuma seemed to echo things I’d forgotten about The Proposition and it’s given me an urge to sit down and watch it again. In fact, in some ways 3:10 To Yuma seemed to me a much friendlier, scrubbed clean version of the Australian film.

Of course, to be fair to 3:10 to Yuma, it obviously isn’t a knockoff of The Proposition (whether it owes a debt to High Noon, however, is another question entirely). But since I’ve neither read the short story by Elmore Leonard nor seen the first Hollywood adaptation, my head has no other clear reference points (besides, again, High Noon). And as I just remarked to someone earlier today “All westerns remind me of all other westerns.”

Yes, you could probably say that about other genre films, too (most horror movies remind me of most other horror movies, for instance), but I say it with some level of disdain whenever I’m talking about westerns. For some reason, despite my best efforts, I’ve never really been all that keen on them. But I’ve always enjoyed perceptive reads on westerns like Self-Styled Siren’s well-put argument: “On the most basic level Westerns are, always and without exception, about manhood. They ask, Who’s the man here? Is it me? How do I make it me?”.

I agree. And there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that this is what’s at the heart of 3:10 to Yuma. The only question, I guess, is how much I care.

OK, no, there’s one more question. Why do I want to see The Proposition again?

Both questions have the same answer: I’m not sure.

A pure (or was that puerile?) classic. I liked it just as much as I hoped I would.

The folks in the Apatow Clan (which I’ve also called the Apatow/Robertson Collective to acknowledge that Shauna Robertson has been involved in many—though certainly not all—of these movies, as well) seem to like making two kinds of movies.

1) The sort which makes fun of filmmaking devices and throws in heaping helpings of pure, unabashed absurdity just for the joy of it. Unsurprisingly, these involve either Will Ferrell or John C. Reilly—and sometimes both (e.g. Anchorman, Talladega Nights, and the upcoming Walk Hard).

2) Straight-up, surprisingly kind-hearted comedies which involve, by some sort of obvious necessity, Seth Rogen (e.g. The 40 Year Old Virgin, Knocked Up, and this). Since I know nothing about them it’s probably unwise (and certainly premature) to lump the upcoming Pineapple Express (which I’m looking forward to since it’s directed by David Gordon Green) and Drillbit Taylor into this second pile, but note the obligatory Rogen involvement in each. (Yes, Rogen was also in Anchorman. But the Ferrell/Reilly rule trumps the Rogen rule.)

Full credit to whoever came up with the name McLovin, by the way. They guaranteed that a number of writers would pony up a very obvious appropriation of a certain large corporation’s unbearably bad slogan when referring to this movie. Bravo.

I’d found the The Bourne Identity to be a rousing surprise. Really, I thought Doug Liman’s treatment of the script made for one of the coolest action movies of the last five years. And then it was followed by what I considered a fine, steady sequel which had almost as many positives as the first movie. So even though I went in to the third movie pretty sure I would be satisfied, I was surprised by just how much I actually got into it.

I don’t really know why I’ve enjoyed recent action movies like Casino Royale and this so much, but I really have.

Actually, having thought about it a second, I think it’s pretty simple. Even though, as an audience member I know certain characters are in little or no real danger, this latest breed of action films has made the protagonist really earn most of what they get. And, for better or worse, the feeling that characters are actually in some danger is one which makes an action sequence worthwhile for me. Yeah, I guess I like stressing a little about the characters. And while I’ve never had much worry for Bond or Bourne (What is it with the action hero intiails of JB, anyway? James Bond, Jason Bourne, Jack Bauer…), there were other characters I found myself stressing about.

Thanks to Superbad, I’ve had “These Eyes” stuck in my head for the last four days. I am dying over here. I’m even listening to it right now because it’s so intractably stuck in my head. No, really. See?
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Now playing: The Guess Who – These Eyes
via FoxyTunes
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Oh, right. But this is about Cool Hand Luke. Which I saw nearly three weeks ago. Ha.

(You gave a promise to me, yeah. And you broke it. And you broke it. Oh no.)

I loved Cool Hand Luke, quite honestly. It’s a classic non-conformist story very humanly done and I really have nothing but positive impressions about the script and the performances. But I can’t think of anything else to say at the moment. And the sad thing is I didn’t have anything else to say three weeks ago, either.

(These eyes. Are cryin’. Theseeyeshaveseenalotof… good lord, just shoot me. Please.)