Cinema Experts

“I have to go right home. I know how to finish the script now. It ends with Kaufman driving home after his lunch with Amelia, thinking he knows how to finish the script. Shit, that's voice-over. McKee would not approve. How else can I show his thoughts? I don't know. Oh, who cares what McKee says? It feels right. Conclusive. I wonder who's gonna play me. Someone not too fat. I liked that Gerard Depardieu, but can he not do the accent? Anyway, it's done. And that's something. So: "Kaufman drives off from his encounter with Amelia, filled for the first time with hope. ‘I like this. This is good’.”
After the phenomenal success of Being John Malkovich in 1999, screenwriter Charlie Kaufman was commissioned to adapt Susan Orlean's non-fiction novel, "The Orchid Thief," for the screen. However, it didn't take long for him to realise that Orlean's book was basically unfilmable, its sprawling and ponderous story lacking any clear structure or coherence. After some months of struggling vainly to write a screenplay from the novel, Kaufman's script inexplicably became the story of a writer's effort to adapt an inadaptable novel. Kaufman's completed script was presented to his financial backers with some trepidation, but they reportedly loved it so much that they decided to abandon the original project and film his screenplay. Spike Jonze, who had also directed "Being John Malkovich," returned to direct "Adaptation," the quirky, twisting, self-referential film that received almost universal critical acclaim.
Much like Federico Fellini's classic 1963 film, '8½,' from which Kaufman almost certainly drew inspiration, 'Adaptation' tells the story of its own creation. Nicolas Cage plays Charlie Kaufman, the lonely, insecure and socially awkward screenwriter who is hired to adapt "The Orchid Thief," written by Susan Orlean, who is portrayed by Meryl Streep. The novel itself concerns the story of John Laroche (played by Chris Cooper), a smug plant dealer who was arrested in 1994 for poaching rare orchids in the Fakahatchee Strand State Preserve. As Kaufman struggles to write the script, his troubles are compounded by the presence of his twin brother, Donald (also played by Nicolas Cage), who is Charlie's exact opposite: reckless, carefree, over-confident and perhaps even a bit dim.
The script for 'Adaptation' darts back and forth between different moments in time, either chronicling Kaufman's screen writing exploits or Orlean's experiences in writing her novel. At several points in the story, more dramatic flashbacks take place: we see Charles Darwin first penning his theories of evolution and adaptation, a brief history of the grim activity of orchid-hunting, and, in one particularly impressive sequence, we are taken back billions of years to the beginning of life, to trace how Charlie Kaufman came to be here today. Though purportedly based on a true story, the events of the film are highly fictionalised, and the story always treads a fine line with reality, with the audience never certain of whether or not an event is real (in the context of the film) or merely a creation of Charlie's (or even Donald's) imagination.
Though Charlie Kaufman (the true-life writer, not the character) often receives most of the accolades for the film, it is director Spike Jonze who shared the vision to execute "Adaptation" on screen. His approach to film-making is always original and daring, never tentative of trying something unique for the sake of the film, even if it may offend the tastes of an audience that is unaccustomed to anything other than the mundane clichés of the modern movies that are churned out daily by Hollywood studios. If this wasn't completely obvious after the weird, twisted, fascinating 'Being John Malkovich,' then 'Adaptation' put any lingering doubts to rest. The director, who started his career directing music videos, seems to share a singular understanding with Kaufman the writer, and a mutual agreement on what the film is actually trying to say.
In addition to a clever story, 'Adaptation' contains some of the finest acting of the 2000s, presenting an excellent selection of seasoned talents at the top of their games. In arguably the greatest role(s) of his career, Nicolas Cage is phenomenal as both Charlie and Donald Kaufman, twin brothers whose complete polarity is startlingly evident in the execution of their respective film scripts. Charlie, whilst writing his adaptation, is determined to avoid the usual clichés and construct a film without any conventional plot, to write a movie "simply about flowers." Donald, however, blissfully oblivious to his own unoriginality as a writer, churns out a hackneyed psychological thriller, entitled 'The 3,' in which the serial killer, his female hostage and the cop are the very same person. In an ironic twist of fate, Donald's trite treatment is hailed as a masterpiece, adding further to the inadequacy already being felt by his disillusioned brother.
Cage is excellent, and often absolutely hilarious, as both characters, giving each brother a distinct attitude and personality, so that it is possible to tell immediately which is which even though their physical appearance is exactly the same. Meryl Streep is equally excellent as Susan Orlean, the journalist for "The New Yorker" who researches John Laroche and endeavours to catch a glimpse of the famed and very rare Ghost Orchid, if only to understand what it feels like to be passionate about something. Chris Cooper arguably steals the entire show as the charismatic and enigmatic Laroche, whose tragedy-afflicted life is dedicated to mastering numerous obscure fields (such as orchid-collecting, or fish-collecting), each of which is sporadically cast aside and permanently forgotten as soon as he feels it's time to move on, to "adapt" to another hobby. From four Academy Award nominations, only Cooper walked away with a statue. Notably, Charlie Kaufman's screenplay was also nominated for an Oscar.
In a nutshell, 'Adaptation' is all about failure. Charlie Kaufman is absolutely determined to write an original script, without cramming in "sex or guns or car chases or characters learning profound life lessons or growing or coming to like each other or overcoming obstacles to succeed in the end." However, after he eventually asks Donald to complete the script for him, it descends into exactly that. A visit to a screen-writing seminar by Robert McKee (memorably played by Brian Cox) – who is famous for warning strongly against Deus Ex Machina – is used as exactly that. Charlie Kaufman the character fails miserably in writing his script, but, ironically, Charlie Kaufman the writer succeeds ever so magnificently… 9/10

“They called it the car for every man. Henry Ford himself called it a car for the great multitude. It was functional, and simple, like your sewing machine, or your cast-iron stove. You could learn to drive it in less than a day. And you could get any color you wanted...”
The story of Seabiscuit is actually the tale of four long shots: Charles Howard (Jeff Bridges), a wealthy self-made man and natural salesmen who's suffered both personal and financial loss through the Depression, Tom Smith (Chris Cooper), an aging horse trainer unsure of his place in the world with the ending of the frontier, Red Pollard (Tobey Maguire), a short-tempered jockey with various handicaps against him, and Seabiscuit, an undersized mustang whose been mistreated his whole life.
It's the Depression, and times are hard on everyone. The assembly line philosophy of business is starting to squelch independent spirit and people are looking for anything to help escape the dreary day-to-day of life. During this maelstrom of hopelessness, horse racing quickly gathers favoritism among those wishing to witness a spectacle in otherwise bleak times. It's under these circumstances that the film's four main parties come together. Howard, seeking a new business venture in horse racing, hires Smith as his horse trainer and Pollard as his jockey, and upon Smith's insistence, purchases the ill-tempered Seabiscuit.
It's not long before Seabiscuit becomes the “little horse who could”, gaining favor among the sporting fans on the West Coast. But despite the popularity the mustang and his team gains, they are seen as just a cheap novelty by the East Coast horse racing elite, led by Samuel Riddle, owner of the 1937 Triple Crown Winner War Admiral. This mushrooms into a media circus as Howard tries to gain public favor in order to force Riddle to put his money where his mouth is.
The story should have felt cliched and by-the-numbers, but a funny thing happened: the film makers took a nearly forgotten moment in time and managed to invest it with immediacy and suspense. The near mythic meeting of Seabiscuit and War Admiral on November 1, 1938 at Pimlico is an extension of the movie's overall theme; Seabiscuit, the representative of underdog hopes and pioneering dreams, and War Admiral, the recipient of champion breeding and training, a product of assembly line thinking.
Bridges and Maguire give spirited performances, with their characters forming a father and son bond that both men desperately needed. Cooper can give this kind of performance in his sleep, bringing a quiet, stoic depth to the Smith character. The supporting cast is top drawer as well, especially William H. Macy as “Tick Tock” McGlaughlin, the initially skeptical radio sports commentor who becomes a full blown Seabiscuit supporter.
Director Gary Ross captures the time period marvelously, with broken human beings slowly recapturing their dignity and pride against a landscape of barren ruin. The conflicts are fought not on traditional battlefields, but atop magnificent beasts along a circular track, and Ross wisely utilizes this metaphor to full effect.
Recommendable and enjoyable sports movie. Not exactly an intense and gripping drama, but worth a watch… 8/10

“That was the day I stopped believing in the wild ardor of things. Perhaps in love, as well. That kind of love. The love in books and films. The love that tells us to abandon our lives and plans, all for one brief touch of Venus. So often we fail at that kind of love. The world just seems too fragile a place for it. And of every other kind, life remains full. Perhaps it's just we who are too fragile.”
Todd Haynes' Far From Heaven, a homage to the 1950s melodramas of Douglas Sirk, is an exquisitely crafted film of beauty and grace. The world that Haynes creates is so meticulously detailed that one almost forgets that the movie isn't fifty years old.
Julianne Moore deserves her Academy Award nomination for her portrayal of Cathy Whitaker, a homemaker whose idyllic life begins to disintegrate when she learns that her husband is gay. Moore's Cathy is a delicate woman who would like to be courageous, but can't be because of the world that she is trapped in. As her innocence begins to die, she realizes how empty and superficial her life is. When she begins a cautious romance with her black gardener (Dennis Haysbert) she begins to see the racism and hypocrisy that forms the underbelly of a seemingly perfect world. At the end of the film Cathy has no illusions, and realizes that the life that she thought was perfect is actually a never-ending hell.
Dennis Quaid is equally stunning as Cathy's tortured husband Frank. After Cathy discovers his homosexuality, the two are forced to grapple with a truth that neither of them can comprehend. Frank goes to a doctor for "treatment," and his confession is heartbreaking. He says that he "can't let this thing, this sickness, destroy my life. I'm going to beat this thing." We look at Frank and pity him because we realize that such a feat is impossible, and unnecessary, but Frank does not possess that knowledge. Frank begins to drink more, and when he finally breaks down and tells Cathy that he has fallen in love with another man, all of the anger, shame, and joy comes pouring out of him all at once. It is a supremely moving moment, and the best performance of Quaid has ever given.
As the marriage between Cathy and Frank begins to unravel, the two also begin to fight.
All of Cathy and Frank's arguments and confessions take place at night, bathed in shadows. The truth has no place in this bright, artificial world, and it must stay hidden at all costs. One night, when Frank tries to make love to Cathy and can't, Cathy tries to placate him, saying that he is "all man" to her. At that remark Frank hits her, and for a moment the audience does not breathe. Cathy then asks quietly for her husband to get her some ice. Cathy is all restraints, and it is only with her kind gardener that she has a chance to break free. The scenes between Moore and Haysbert crackle with erotic energy because everything remains unsaid. When Cathy finally asks him to dance with her, it is a moment when we realize what human beings are capable of being together.
The fourth example of stellar acting comes from Patricia Clarkson as Cathy's best friend Eleanor. Eleanor is a bitter, gossipy, cold-hearted woman, and when she tells Cathy "I am your best friend," you want to scream to Cathy not to believe her. Clarkson makes the most of her rather limited screen time, and turns in a fascinatingly layered performance.In creating an artificial world, Todd Haynes has managed to lay bare the human soul in a way that has never been done before. It is a moving and important motion picture: we were, we still are, and will continue to be, very, very, very Far From Heaven… 9/10

“We bury our sins here, Dave. We wash them clean.”
After three eleven year-olds from a close-knit lower middle class Boston suburb undergo a tragic experience where one is abducted and abused for four days, their lives diverge. The abducted one never overcomes the emotional trauma, another begins a life of crime, and the third becomes a cop. None ever venture very far from the neighborhood. When tragedy strikes again, their lives are gradually brought back together on a collision course that leads to some unexpected results.
Mystic River is a surprisingly dark film, with a controversial denouement. It is masterfully directed, acted, shot, edited, lit and scored. It is a mostly humorless and occasionally difficult realist drama, that will undoubtedly affect most viewers emotionally in a variety of ways - you may cry, you may become angry with at least one character and the lack of just deserts, and you may find it a bit depressing, although producer/director/composer Clint Eastwood and scripter Brian Helgeland do through in a relatively minor glimmer of hope/happiness at the very end.
Not that I tend to agree with awards organizations, but it should be no surprise that Mystic River has fine acting. A bulk of its many awards and nominations, including two Oscar victories, were for on screen performances. What is less recognized is the positive effect that the locations, cinematography, lighting and score have on the atmosphere of the film. Kokayi Ampah found the perfect, generic, metropolitan lower middle class neighborhoods, buildings and bars. It could be any slightly depressing, but maybe about to gentrify, suburb of Boston, New York City, Philadelphia, Cleveland, Chicago, Detroit, or any number of at least Northeastern and Midwestern U.S. cities. Tom Stern's cinematography is continually, subtly inventive. Just check out the shot of Sean Penn where shadows from a railing form symbolic jail bars on the wall behind him. The lighting tends to the late 1990s/early 2000s look that is more monochromatic and leaning-towards blue. There are a lot of well-placed shadows, often creating a chiaroscuro look. Eastwood's score is understated but very effective.
The story is absorbing. There is an unexpected mystery angle that is effectively sustained until almost the end. But the most interesting part of the story to me, at least, was the extremely gray depiction of Penn's character, Jimmy Markum. Markum is revealed to be largely criminal, and not quite likable in his attitude towards his daughter (he doesn't respect her individuality, even though she's actually an adult). Yet at the same time, he is compared by at least one character to a "king", and in many ways, he is treated as one in the neighborhood. This may or may not be meant more metaphorically by the character saying it, but it is possible to read much of the film as being about a traditional king trying to live in modern day metropolitan suburbia. In some historical and cultural contexts, surely Markum's behavior in the film would have a more noble sheen, including his "mistake". This is perhaps why poetic justice never arrives, and instead, the character is seen as contented, with his queen and court by his side, being regaled with a parade instead. In modern contexts, many kings' behavior would not be so noble, and instead we'd notice more the injustices done to the peasantry and sympathize with them. Markum's character cannot be depicted more literally as royalty, as if he were far removed from the socio-economic status of the film's peasantry (although we find out eventually that he has more money to spare than most folks in his neighborhood), because it would be instead read as a moral tale of economic disparity as is exists solely in modern times. Putting everyone on a level playing field, more or less, is the only way to create a parable of how kings would be perceived, solely in terms of their decisions and actions, in our era. Long live the King… 9/10

“The kid gets it all. Just plant us in the damn garden, next to the stupid lion.”

"Secondhand Lions" is a movie which has achieved excellence. The story line is fast-moving and packed with nuance. Various elements of the plot overlap and blend for a harmonious whole. It is not a series of action scenes played primarily for visual impact, but a compelling story which demands attentive viewing.
Flashback scenes are intentionally cartoonish, so that the audience, like the character of the boy Walter, is left wondering whether the fantastic tales of the old uncles' adventurous youth are really to be believed. Uncle Garth tells the stories, which we see through Walter's imagination. We see in the flashbacks what Walter envisions as he hears the stories, and Walter doesn't have the age and experience to see anything other than the caricatures which appear in the flashback scenes. It's not a photo-accurate rendition, it's what a youngster imagines while listening to oral storytelling. For instance, a twelve-year-old Texan in the 1950s wouldn't have been likely to know what a really angry Sheik would have looked like in the 1920s. These flashbacks, and the ways in which they are depicted, are central to the plot of the movie. Through his storytelling, without realizing it, Uncle Garth nurtures a creative potential in Walter (who will grow up to become a cartoonist).
Christian Kane is a magnificent casting choice as young Uncle Hub (the younger incarnation of Duvall's character), displaying just the right kind of spark for the daring adventurer. Kyra Sedgwick is eerily believable as Walter's shallow and self-absorbed mother. The family of hick relatives is superbly annoying.
Haley Joel Osment delivers a solid portrayal of Walter. Sometimes his voice sounds like that of a boy, sometimes like that of a young man, as would be expected in a male of Walter's age. Sometimes Walter cries like a child, sometimes he displays stoic maturity, as would be expected from a boy who is in the transition of becoming a man. We see Walter unsure of himself in the beginning, but later finding his footing. Not too sugary, not too hard-edged, Haley Joel Osment is ideal for the role. He may be overshadowed by Caine and Duvall, but actually holds his own reasonably well, working between these two living legends.
Michael Caine's accent as Uncle Garth is a perfect portrayal of a Texan who has lived outside Texas for much of his life. Garth is no bumpkin hick, but a man who has traveled the world, and in light of his experiences it would not have been credible to give this character a strong country drawl. Even though, as the plot progresses, we don't know how much of Garth's fantastic storytelling we should believe, there is never a question of whether Garth has ventured outside the Texas borders. Michael Caine gives Uncle Garth just the right combination of toughness and tenderness, and treads the fine line of allowing us to see Garth as a trustworthy character regardless of his adventurous stories.
The uncles are very realistic characterizations, and Texas holds many characters like them. The aging uncles had, as young men, gone away to find adventure, and lived on the edge for much of their lives. Then they returned home to retire in a rural Texas setting which they were finding to be just a little too tame, no longer remembering much about Texas country life except for acquiring the obligatory too many dogs. The uncles don't say much to each other because there is no need to say much, they understand each other perfectly. Confronted with age, they seek out reckless behavior, unwilling to sit still and get older, unable to overtly give up on life. Walter's presence suddenly requires them to adapt to new purpose, and to take care of themselves, too, as they are faced with the issue of providing appropriate male role models so that their young nephew might one day become an appropriate man.
The characters must make choices, and not always easy ones. The valiant tales of adventure don't always conclude with happily-ever-after fairytale endings. It is not purely a comedy, but instead probes the depths of emotion... 8/10

“A man tells his stories so many times that he becomes the stories. They live on after him, and in that way he becomes immortal.”
How many of us have met someone who always tells us "tall tales?" Are they true stories or are they mostly exaggerated? As you watch this film your mind may well be asking that question: Is Albert Finney's life as Ed Bloom, a mere figment of his imagination or did he actually live all those "adventures"?
"Big Fish" combines Burton's unusual humor with a heart-wrenching story of a father-son deathbed reconciliation. Albert Finney and Ewan McGregor share the role of Ed Bloom, one of the big fish from the movie's title while an SUV-sized catfish plays the other. Bloom is a metaphorical and literal big fish in the small pond of Ashton, Alabama in this tale told mostly through flashback. Jessica Lange plays his wife and Billy Crudup plays the son, Will, estranged from his father for the past three years. Father and son are reunited as Finney lies dying of cancer.
Ed Bloom has spent his life spinning his personal history into mythological proportions: an early encounter with a very tall man becomes a battle with a house-sized giant; a rural village is depicted as heaven on earth; military service during the Korean War morphs into a behind-the-lines mission that would make Duke Nukem proud. Originally a true believer, Will now knows everything his father has told him was not just an exageration or even a tall tale but an outright lie. In his effort to understand the truth behind his father's stories he learns to love the man as well as the mythology.
Burton deals with mythic themes in "Big Fish." Besides the surface story of the generational tension between father and son he explores the metaphor of the big-fish-in-a-small-pond by examining the impact Ed Bloom has had on the lives he's touched in his workaday contacts with colleagues, customers (he's a traveling salesman), and people in the small towns across the South. Not exactly "It's A Wonderful Life," he still manages to show how all of us - even the little fish - have profound effects on the people around us. And of course love -unrequited and reciprocated - control almost all of Ed's many adventures.
It's a heart warming, funny movie where fantasy and reality go hand in hand and the possible is as likely as the impossible. It's filmed so perfectly that if it doesn't touch you, you must be a corpse… 10/10

“Let's never come here again because it will never be as much fun.”
People who know me know I love movies and frequently ask me, “What's your favorite?” Of course I never have a single answer. When I used to think of what made a good movie, I would look at a movie from all aspects: direction, cinematography, editing, acting, story etc. The sum of all these parts make up the whole, and are also what lead me to my opinion of a film...
Then came Lost in Translation.
The first time I watched this movie, I felt a strange sense of depression that lasted for a few days, but I couldn't put my finger on why. I watched it again and again, and felt the same way each time.
Superficially, Lost in Translation is a movie about culture shock, but the experience of Westerners in Tokyo is a metaphor for more existential themes of alienation, loneliness, and the desire for companionship. The film explores these themes against the background of the modern Japanese cityscape.
People like Bob and Charlotte really exist, and they really do meet up in very similar situations. After a week, they must go their separate ways, he to his family and activities of his kids, she to wait for her husband and figure out how to get out of the rut. We sense that he does not love her they way she needs and we wonder what will happen.
The movie takes a while to truly glean out the deep-seated motivations of both of its characters, but they become fully-realized in a marvellous scene where Bob and Charlotte lay fully-clothed in bed together. Here, they handle the 'big' questions in life, and not "Where did you go to college?" or "What did you want to be when you were little?" but "What is my purpose?" and "Does marriage get easier?" I was amazed at the honesty of the character's responses. Bob relates to Charlotte the experience of having children and the ongoing struggles of marriage, but a tinge of fear and apprehension runs through his speech. Charlotte hasn't really figured things out for herself yet - she says she's tried just about everything but hasn't found that niche. Coppola's screenplay takes these two separate beings, far apart in age and experiences, and makes a profound statement - both are in the same exact emotional limbo. Charlotte is confused and worried, but Bob is regretful and washed-up. In a way, these two are some form of deeply odd soul-mates. That is the heart and soul of Coppola's amazing work.
How many of you can relate to and have actually been that guy/girl on business, in the hotel in some foreign city, happily married yet feeling alone and beaten by life's banality? How many of us have been tempted in that very situation, to stray from the confines of moral adherence for the lure of a forbidden, if fleeting, joy? How many have felt that tingle- that spark- when a stranger smiles and you think, "you know, in another life..."?
Think of the last movie that really made you think, that had such a great influence on you that it somehow changed your life, even for the littlest bit. That, to you, is a great movie... 10/10