The Adventures of Tintin (AFI Film Fest 2011)

Much like Catch Me If You Can, Steven Spielberg's The Adventures of Tintin begins with a slick animated credit sequence. But unlike any of Spielberg's directorial efforts thus far, Tintin unfolds in beautiful motion capture animation and proves that even after the embarrassment of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, Spielberg is still at the top of his game in the action/adventure genre. The director's history with this character goes all the way back to Raiders of the Lost Ark, at which time he read a review of his film that compared his hero to Tintin. He spoke with Tintin's creator, Herge, and secured the rights to make a film. Years later, Spielberg partnered with producer Peter Jackson and his Weta Workshop, incorporating the latest technology to render Herge's comic world in breathtaking 3D and resulting in one of the most fun films of the year.

The Adventures of Tintin
Director: Steven Spielberg
Starring: Jamie Bell, Andy Serkis, Daniel Craig, Simon Pegg, Nick Frost

Tintin (Jamie Bell) is a fearless young boy reporter with no family left except for his trusty canine sidekick, Snowy. When Tintin buys a model of a ship called the Unicorn, the mustache-twirling villain Sakharine (Daniel Craig) immediately asks to buy it from him, but Tintin's not interested in selling. Soon, our hero discovers his house has been ransacked because of the model ship and he uncovers a trail of clues that lead him across the world on a race for a legendary treasure. Along the way, he encounters bumbling policemen Thomson and Thompson (Nick Frost and Simon Pegg) and a drunken sea captain named Haddock (Andy Serkis) that aid him in his race against Sakharine to retrieve the treasure.

Weta's animation here is absolutely flawless, bringing Herge's art to dazzling life and competing with Rango for the best-looking fully animated film of the year. On a technical level, The Adventures of Tintin is an indisputable masterpiece; but unlike another impressive visual achievement, James Cameron's Avatar, Tintin's story seems to be as important to the filmmakers as technological innovation. The action - and there is plenty of it - is classic Spielberg, recalling the best sequences in his Indiana Jones films while also showing some flashes of the Playstation 3 video game series Uncharted (itself heavily inspired by Spielberg's fedora-wearing icon). One shot in particular - a sublime long take through the streets of Bagghar as Tintin attempts to recover scrolls from an elusive eagle - seems ripped directly from an Uncharted game, with the video game vibe apparent to anyone who's touched a controller in the past ten years. 

That long take is so astoundingly perfect that it instantly became one of my favorites in cinema history, and because it wouldn't be possible with traditional live action filmmaking, it's almost as if Spielberg chose to make this film using motion capture specifically to accomplish that shot. A raging pirate battle told in flashback seems like the director giddily taking another shot at imagery that didn't quite fit into his own pirate film, 1991's Hook, and a brilliantly executed plane sequence is perfectly suited for this type of adventure. These are just a few of the spectacular action beats featured in The Adventures of Tintin, and I would highly suggest seeing the film for yourself (in 3D) to see the rest of them for yourself.

Interesting note: aside from a burly opera singer used more as a plot device than a character, there are no women characters in this story. I'm like most Americans in that I don't have any prior knowledge of Tintin (though the character is popular seemingly everywhere else in the world), so I'm not sure if the fact that there are no female characters stems from the source material or if it's just a choice by writers Steven Moffatt, Edgar Wright, and Joe Cornish. Perhaps there will be opportunities in the sequels; this series was always intended for Spielberg to direct the first film, Jackson to direct the second, and for the two of them to co-direct the third.

The collaboration between Spielberg and John Williams continues here, emerging with another perfectly realized melding of music and imagery that extends the relationship between two of the medium's most celebrated icons. There's even a funny throwback to one of the duo's most celebrated efforts, 1975's Jaws, as Tintin swims with his recognizable Conan O'Brien-esque hair sticking out of the water like a shark's fin. The pacing is quick and energetic, whisking the viewer across with globe with Tintin and his friends, and the writing is equally adept. Moffatt, Wright, and Cornish (the latter of whom have are also directors responsible for some of my favorite movies of the past couple years with Scott Pilgrim vs. The World and Attack the Block, respectively) do a great job of blending three of Herge's stories together to form a cohesive narrative, and the only complaint I have is with the character of Tintin himself. I found him to be a bit too bland with not enough personality of his own; in this case, though, it's kind of understandable because as the audience, we imprint ourselves onto the character to experience the adventure for ourselves.

Despite this, though, The Adventures of Tintin is unquestionably one of the most fun films I've seen in a while and also one of the best action movies of the year. A return to form for one of the best directors of all time, this movie rejuvenates my hope that Spielberg can direct a thrilling action movie again - he just has to stay away from Indiana Jones to do it. Until next time...

J. Edgar

It's easy to see how J. Edgar was one of my most anticipated films of 2011. It stars my favorite working actor, is directed by a living legend, and features a script by an Academy Award winning screenwriter. But who knew that those elements could combine to create something so...boring?

J. Edgar
Director: Clint Eastwood
Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Naomi Watts, Armie Hammer

The film tracks the trajectory of the professional and personal life of J. Edgar Hoover (Leonardo DiCaprio), the first director of the FBI, from the early days of his career in 1919 until his death in 1972. Hoover meets a young graduate named Clyde Tolson (Armie Hammer), and even though he doesn't fit the profile for a job on Hoover's coveted new squad, Hoover brings him on anyway. See, Hoover's been bullied into not accepting his homosexuality. Even his own mother (Judi Dench) says she'd rather have a dead son than a gay one. On a first date with a new woman at the Bureau (Naomi Watts), Hoover is so socially inept that she has to interrupt a proposal from him. She's married to her work, she says, and Hoover brings her on as his personal secretary (a position she'll have for the rest of his life). But he can't help himself with Tolson, what with the young man's booming voice and broad shoulders and all. Though things never get too sexual - check out another film that played at the AFI Film Festival this year, Steve McQueen's Shame, if you're looking for that - their relationship takes center stage as Hoover makes a name for himself and his department.

"Information is power," an elderly Hoover dictates to one of numerous agents tasked with writing a book about him (the structure of the film is told from the old man's point of view through flashbacks), and the film does add a tiny bit of complexity when dealing with the issues of how far Hoover is willing to go to keep his power in Washington, simultaneously commenting on the state of American politics and freedoms in a post-9/11 world. I wish more of those concepts were explored instead of what we are actually shown: a stale biopic about a tortured man whose private life was undoubtedly messed up, but was also, as the marketing hails, "the most powerful man in the world."

There's much made of the creation of the FBI and Hoover's crusade to secure the adoption of the investigation techniques used in regular police work today. But since our modern media is saturated with a different CSI or NCIS show seemingly every night, the "magic" of the implementation of those tactics seems dull and uninteresting. The film doesn't really help us out in this department: the centerpiece of the use of this technology surrounds the infamous Lindbergh baby case - specifically, agents studying wood from a ladder found outside the home the day of the kidnapping. Yep, you read that correctly - guys standing around in a lab analyzing a wooden ladder. Some movies may be able to make a scene like that interesting, but J. Edgar is not one of them.

Behind the camera, this is not the rough and tumble Eastwood I prefer. Instead, it's as if adhering to his notoriously quick directing style - Fincher did 99 takes for the opening scene of The Social Network, while Eastwood prefers to do everything in one or two takes - became more important than the content of the film itself, rendering the movie completely devoid of any passion or personality. It could have been directed by anyone, and that was a big disappointment for me.

Another disappointment? This is not DiCaprio's best work. More distracting than the heavy age makeup for me was his speech, as he adopts what one can only assume is an accurate representation of the way Hoover actually spoke. But accurate as it may be (or maybe it isn't, how should I know?), DiCaprio's delivery is brittle and jerky, with an accent sliding in and out depending on the scene. This is the same actor who received high praise for his South African accent in Blood Diamond, one of the most difficult accents to replicate. So I'm sure it was just a choice on his part in J. Edgar, but it was one that I could never quite get past as the movie progressed. Armie Hammer and Naomi Watts were both fine, but the monotonous script doesn't allow them to live up to their potential and never gives them a true "moment" to make their own, save for a laughably over-the-top emotional outburst from Hammer seen in the trailers.

Sometimes the combination of some of the best talent in the business results in a misfire. In the blockbuster genre, take a look at Cowboys & Aliens from earlier this year: Jon Favreau, Harrison Ford, Daniel Craig, Damon Lindelof, Hawk Otsby, Mark Fergus, Alex Kurtzman, and Roberto Orci all had their hands in that pot, and it was pretty awful. If the nicest thing I can say about J. Edgar is that it's the dramatic equivalent of Cowboys & Aliens...well, there's that saying about "if you can't say anything nice," so maybe I shouldn't have said anything at all. Until next time...

Shame (AFI Film Fest 2011)

A searing study of the consuming consequences of sex addiction, Shame reunites director Steve McQueen with his Hunger star Michael Fassbender and cements them both as talents to watch in the years to come.

Shame
Co-writer/Director: Steve McQueen
Starring: Michael Fassbender, Carey Mulligan

Brandon (Fassbender) is addicted to sex. It dominates his psyche, and he can't even go through a day of work without contaminating his work computer or taking a break to masturbate in the bathroom. He has a great apartment and a good job in New York City, and spends his nights either with hookers or watching porn on his computer. A sudden visit from his troubled sister Sissy (Carey Mulligan) introduces the conflict of the story, as Brandon's world is shaken and his life becomes far more complicated.

As you may have heard, both Fassbender and Mulligan go full frontal for this movie. Though it never shows any penetration, the film gets dangerously close in multiple scenes, and absolutely deserves its NC-17 rating. For a movie that showcases sex so frequently, one might think there would be a titillating factor to the proceedings. But director Steve McQueen manages to turn sex, as seen through Brandon's eyes, into an act devoid of emotion or personality; a necessity rather than a passion. Stimulation is replaced with pity for the character as we feel sorry for the way he lives and his unstable grasp on reality.

In this film, McQueen often employs one of my favorite filmmaking techniques: the long take. (I haven't yet seen the director's debut film, Hunger, so I'm not sure if this usage continues a pattern for him.) In a world where quick cuts reign supreme in the editing room, it's refreshing to see a director choose to let his actors bring the work to life in long uncut sequences. Fassbender is in most of these, and he's fantastic, but Carey Mulligan gets her chance to shine, too - since her character is a singer, she performs a super slowed down version of "New York, New York" that is, for the most part, shot in one long close up on her face. There are two groups of people in this world: those that will find this scene mesmerizing, and those that will be bored as hell. Count me among the former, but I can absolutely understand the latter's point of view.

The tone of that scene is reflected throughout the entire movie. This is a contemplative film, interested more in the psychological complexities of sex addiction than the constant progression of a narrative. It is first and foremost a character study, and therefore sacrifices some narrative momentum in favor of meditative moments for the leads. It's a purely adult drama, seemingly a dying breed in theaters at a time when studios would have us believe huge blockbusters or microbudget horror films are the only viable properties. Shame will definitely be too much for general audiences, but cinephiles and the arthouse crowd will likely find a lot to like between the astounding performances and the assured direction. Until next time...

Haywire (AFI Film Fest 2011)

Perhaps it was fate that Steven Soderbergh's 25th feature film should premiere at the 25th annual AFI Film Festival in Los Angeles this weekend. As AFI President Bob Gazzale pointed out during his introduction of the director at Sunday night's secret screening, Soderbergh has certainly made a huge mark on the American film landscape over the course of his career. He invigorated the independent film movement of the early 90s with sex, lies, and videotape, and is equally adept at making slick studio movies like the Ocean's 11 series or blazing his own trail with boundary-pushing cinema like The Girlfriend Experience or his two-part Che Guevara biopic. With his newest film, Haywire, the prolific director brings his signature style to an unfamiliar arena: the action/spy genre.

Haywire
Director: Steven Soderbergh
Starring: Gina Carano, Michael Fassbender, Ewan McGregor, Michael Douglas

Since Soderbergh decided to build a film entirely around her, it's only fair to begin with discussion of Gina Carano, the MMA fighter-turned-actress who plays the lead in the film. Haywire is Carano's first acting gig, and while I admire her director's ballsiness to have an unknown lead a multi-million dollar film like this, Carano is ill-equipped to handle the pressure. She's serviceable, but doesn't ever display a personality for the audience to latch onto; it appears as if she doesn't care whether she lives or dies, so why should we? The audience has to be able to find an emotional connection to this character for the story to operate as intended, and Carano's performance didn't do that for me. She totally kicks ass in the action sequences - more on that in a minute - but dramatically, she was flat and impersonal.

The film's spectacular introduction takes place in a small diner in upstate New York: a fight breaks out between secret agent Mallory Kane (Carano) and her ex co-worker Henry (Channing Tatum). A random kid (Michael Angarano) steps in to intervene on Mallory's behalf, and they escape, using the kid's car to get away. During the drive, Mallory explains and the movie employs flashbacks to reveal the story: a mission in Barcelona went south, so she's teamed with a new agent (Michael Fassbender) in Dublin. Things go further south, and Mallory takes it upon herself to find out who set her up and why, with the bureaucracy's (Michael Douglas and Ewan McGregor) motivations becoming increasingly murky thanks to their ties to a shady political type (Antonio Banderas). Catching back up to the current timeline, Mallory spends the rest of the movie working out and executing her plan to find the truth through any means necessary: which, thankfully for action fans, means kicking some serious ass along the way.

The story, as you can probably tell, is fairly straightforward. But it's not as much about the plot as the style, which is 100% Soderbergh in every way. Lighting, mood, tone, visuals - he applies his trademark to this genre the same as he did with the world virus genre earlier this year in Contagion, and the effect is similar here. Neither film would be considered the best in its respective genre, but there's something comforting in the knowledge of having a Soderbergh effort mixed in with the blandness of many other attempts. The director also continues his great collaboration with composers who create fantastic pieces that perfectly match the vibe of his films. In Haywire, David Holmes' bossa nova score is full of horns and brass - it's big band with an attitude. There are extended sequences in the film that are dialogue-free and rely on the score and the occasional muted sound effect to propel the story (a wise filmmaking decision, considering the limitations of the lead actress).

The action is often shot in long takes and brutally close confinement, leaving the actors to perform their own fights mostly without the aid of stuntmen. There are many times it appears as if they are actually being violently hit in the face, proof of the excellent Bourne-esque fight choreography. It's in these moments, as one may imagine, that Carano's true talent is demonstrated. She's quick, efficient, and powerful, and her deft movements and handsome beauty make it easy to understand Soderbergh's desire to set her as the star of her own action film. 

Haywire is a departure from more heady subject matter for the director, but I believe it's a justified jaunt into unfamiliar territory. Gina Carano's star power is yet to be measured, but even if she isn't the most effective actress, it's still a pleasure to watch a director with so much craftsmanship put these pieces together to add to the genre. Just don't count on a sequel. Until next time...