Monday, September 27, 2010

The NJNM Podcast: Ep. 11 - 3 Days of the Condor


In this week's episode, Ben, Pat, and Tyler discuss Sydney Pollack's 1975 film 3 Days of the Condor. Also featured in this episode: a ton of TV talk, since it was premiere week last week.


Sunday, September 26, 2010

Let Me In

In 2008, Swedish director Tomas Alfredson directed Let the Right One In, a movie based on the best-selling Swedish novel of the same name. The movie won critical acclaim across the world - rightly so, since it's an excellent film - and its international popularity spurred studios to remake it for an English-speaking audience. Matt Reeves (writer and director of Cloverfield) was chosen to take on the challenge of directing the next adaptation. But Reeves was fighting an uphill battle from the start: many fans of the original were displeased with the prospect of a remake, and nearly wrote the movie off before seeing it. So, what's the verdict? Keep reading to find out.

Let Me In
Writer/Director: Matt Reeves
Starring: Chloe Grace Moretz, Kodi Smit-McPhee, Richard Jenkins, Elias Koteas


In my opinion, Let Me In is a totally unnecessary film. That's not to say it's bad - quite the opposite, in fact. I enjoyed the film, and it's a perfectly fine piece of craftsmanship all around. But it bears such a heavy resemblance to Alfredson's 2008 film that I simply don't think it should have been made in the first place. I think the fear of this remake was that in an "Americanized" version, the heart of the original would be lost. I'm happy to report this is not the case - if anything, this movie relies too heavily on Alfredson's vision and just barely offers enough variation on the story to justify its existence.

Set in 1980's New Mexico, the story follows Owen, played by Kodi Smit-McPhee (The Road), a young boy who is savagely bullied at school. He meets Abby, played by Chloe Grace Moretz (Kick-Ass), a strange girl who moves into his apartment complex. As the two strike up a friendship, it becomes clear to Owen that Abby is actually a vampire. She has a caretaker, played by Richard Jenkins (The Visitor), who is tasked with killing people to provide blood for her, and much of the drama comes from watching these scenarios unfold. Elias Koteas (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) plays a policeman trying to solve the murders.


The film does many things right, providing an eerie darkness to the wintry setting and capturing the viciousness of bullying in a school environment. The performances are all very good - the kids in particular deliver some striking work, forcing me to question my usual "I despise kids in movies" mantra. Reeves made a much darker movie with Let Me In, not as quiet and contemplative as the original, but still capturing the essence of what made that movie great. Key scenes (like one that takes place in a pool) are preserved in their entirety and not dumbed down or altered for the mainstream.


Reeves attempts to apply his own stamp to the film, and while I don't think he truly accomplished that goal, he certainly added improving elements along the way. There was an impressive car crash sequence that wasn't featured in the original (reminiscent of the only good part of Terminator Salvation). He also succeeds in giving the movie a nice sense of atmosphere, especially when it comes to the the isolation Owen feels during his parents' divorce (his mother's face is never completely visible, for example). The cinematography was haunting and beautiful, starting with an opening shot of ambulances travelling through the New Mexico landscape in an homage to Sergio Leone's A Fistful of Dollars. There's also a really great shot late in the movie of Owen peering through a frosty window at an empty playground after he witnesses something horrifying; it's a fantastic visual representation of innocence lost.

If I were to nitpick an aspect of the film, it would be the CGI employed during Moretz's vampire sequences. It takes you out of the story a bit, seeing her move in ways that humans can't. The original succeeded because it grounded that character in a quasi-reality, using mostly practical effects and not relying on crazy visuals to get the same effect. There was another sequence - I won't give it away, I'll only say it involves fire - that was also much more effective in the original than in this one because of an over-reliance on CGI in the latter. (To the film's credit, though, Let Me In wisely excised a ridiculous CGI cat sequence from Let the Right One In.)


I apologize for continually comparing this movie to the original, but aside from our natural human instinct for comparison in these situations, this case is even more difficult because they are so incredibly similar throughout. Ultimately, I think Let Me In will serve exactly the purpose that the studio intended: to expose this story to a wider audience in an English capacity. And that's totally fine, since Let Me In is a really solid movie. I just wish more people would seek out Let the Right One In since it essentially "did it first" and it truly is almost the same movie except with subtitles. Until next time...

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Buried

Buried was the hottest property at the Sundance Film Festival this year, earning critical praise and sparking a bidding war between studios (Lionsgate eventually came away victorious). The premise alone had me hooked - a man wakes up buried underground in a coffin with no knowledge of how he got there - and adding Ryan Reynolds to the mix certainly helped pique my interest. But what fascinated me most was the choice director Rodrigo Cortes made regarding how to shoot this film: he decided to film the entire movie inside the coffin, locking the audience in with the character and taking on the challenge of making a compelling film in literally one location.


Buried
Director: Rodrigo Cortes
Starring: Ryan Reynolds




So did Cortes succeed in creating an interesting movie set entirely inside a coffin? Absolutely. Aided by an inventive script by Chris Sparling, Cortes managed to make a Hitchcockian thriller that remains utterly riveting from the nifty opening credits sequence until the final shot of the film. Locked in the coffin with only a phone and a lighter, truck driver Paul Conroy (Reynolds) is - in perhaps the movie's one fatal flaw - able to use his phone underground. Through his conversations, we slowly discover the extent of his problem and piece together information that progresses the story and keeps the audience intrigued and involved.




Buried is quite literally a one-man show, since Ryan Reynolds is the only actor seen on screen for the duration of the movie. He has phone conversations with a few supporting characters (played by the likes of Stephen Tobolowsky and some others), but the responsibility for carrying this film lies squarely on Reynolds' shoulders. To say he rises to the challenge is an understatement, an insult to one of the most captivating performances in recent memory. Reynolds unquestionably commands every scene in this film, earning our trust and empathy seemingly without trying. We feel every labored breath, grimace with every injury, and our emotions rise and fall with his as we listen in on various phone calls that lead toward the film's conclusion. This is an awards-worthy performance, and comparisons to Tom Hanks in Castaway are not unwarranted.


Eduard Grau, the Director of Photography, impressively only utilized light sources that made sense to the story, contributing a great deal to the film's realism. This is especially relevant considering the movie plays out almost in real time - there are a few fades to black to allow for some lapses here and there, but for the most part, we're right in there with Conroy for every second. With the natural light sources shown in essentially real time, the immediacy of the movie heightens our senses and we can't help but sympathize with his horrific scenario. We're wondering what's in each corner of the coffin, but, like Conroy himself, we're kept in the dark until his lighter illuminates the areas around him. I also assumed the selection of camera angles would quickly get repetitive and stale: not the case. Grau and Cortes evolve their shooting style to reflect Conroy's emotions, providing shots I didn't think were possible and never once causing a modicum of boredom.




Aside from the technical achievements and Reynolds' performance, the most impressive aspects of the movie were the action scenes. Yes, you read that correctly - there are multiple action sequences that take place inside the coffin, one of which caused audible gasps throughout the theater. The suspense Cortes is able to create is palpable, and I'm really looking forward to seeing what he does next in Hollywood (or otherwise).


Sparling should be given much of the credit for the effectiveness of the film, and infuses some political commentary into his script. I'd rather not give anything away, but check out this really phenomenal trailer for some hints into the plot. There is also a chilling indictment of corporate self-interest, so there's a bit more than meets the eye when it comes to this story. Sparling is sure to be one of the big-name screenwriters in Hollywood upon this film's wide release, and already has a new minimalistic thriller in pre-production called ATM.




With Ryan Reynolds' powerhouse performance leading the charge, Buried is one of the most memorable movie-going experiences I've had in a long time. The ending will almost certainly inspire debate about the film's overall quality, but even if you aren't a fan of the final few shots (I'm still undecided), the impact of this film can't be denied. Until next time...

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

The Social Network

When I first heard whispers of a Facebook movie going into development, I couldn't have been more disinterested. I'm not terribly familiar with Aaron Sorkin's work outside of A Few Good Men and Malice, and though David Fincher has directed some solid movies (The Game, Se7en), he's never been one of my favorite filmmakers. But after seeing an exceptional trailer and finally seeing the film, I can promise you this is not an eye roll-inducing "trying too hard" desperation stab at cultural relevancy. It's not a "too soon" effort to capitalize on the popularity of Facebook, and it's not a boring movie that's merely about the creation of the site itself. Then what is it? The Social Network is a damn good movie that borders on brilliant.


The Social Network
Director: David Fincher
Starring: Jesse Eisenberg, Andrew Garfield, Justin Timberlake



The film's opening scene features rapid-fire dialogue that begins even before the Columbia logo fades from the screen and continues for a solid five minutes without stopping. The two characters, Mark Zuckerberg (Eisenberg) and his girlfriend Erica* (Rooney Mara) are constantly questioning each other and their place in the conversation since they each move past elements so quickly it's impossible for the other to keep up. But this scene isn't written for the gimmick of having fast-talking young actors sitting across from each other (Diablo Cody, take note). It's a microcosm of one of the film's many themes: members of the "I want it now" generation can quickly and easily get themselves into trouble by speaking too quickly without thinking, and, while undoubtedly stylized beyond a certain level of realism, this scene presents that idea as it simultaneously sets up the personality of our apparent protagonist.


This "blog first, ask questions later" mentality is touched upon (and frowned upon) many times in the movie, which also deals with some larger issues like where the line is drawn for intellectual property theft, corporate ethics, and the personal conflicts that arise when friends are in business together. Fincher himself jokingly referred to the film as "the Citizen Kane of John Hughes movies," but there have been some people who have taken that phrase to heart, actually comparing The Social Network to the movie widely considered the greatest film ever made. (I even scoffed at this notion before seeing the film.) But it's possible I was too rash with that dismissal; after seeing the movie, it might be safe to call The Social Network the Citizen Kane for the modern generation. Structurally, the film takes elements from Kane, including a great flashback framing device involving Zuckerberg being sued by two separate plaintiffs at the same time, as well as the more simple plot component of charting the rise and fall of a wealthy young entrepreneur. There's also a bit of a "Rosebud" feel to the ending, which I won't get into here.


Based on Ben Mezrich's book "The Accidental Billionaires," The Social Network obviously takes some liberties with the supposed real life portrayals of situations, people, and events. That brings up an entirely different set of questions, mostly regarding how ethical it is to craft a film that portrays its lead character - a real person still living and working, mind you - in a less-than-flattering light and passing it off as potentially more fact than fiction. I will cry no tears for the real life Zuckerberg as he basks in his billionaire status, but if I were him I wouldn't be thrilled with my on-screen portrayal.




Regardless, Sorkin and Fincher have taken a story that involves a lot of seemingly boring things - computer coding, general nerdiness, and corporate business - and flipped it into a compelling drama that plays at breakneck speed. There is so much more weight to this story than similar internet "rise and fall" films; the 2008 Josh Hartnett vehicle August is a good example of a movie that attempts to capture the same importance that The Social Network provides, but, because the latter makes it look so easy, ultimately fails in comparison. 




Jesse Eisenberg, an actor many have dubbed the poor man's Michael Cera, delivers a star-making performance as Zuckerberg, the egotistical creator - and alleged thief - of Facebook. I think the Cera comparisons can stop here: I've never seen Cera give this level of dramatic performance, and I think Eisenberg clearly steps out of that "awkward guy" shadow and into a spotlight all his own. He dominates every scene with the lawyers, vocally destroying one who questions if Mark has "his full attention." It'll be interesting to see Eisenberg return to comedy after this, since he absolutely destroys this performance; if we compare his career to that of another actor, I'd say this might be his equivalent to The Truman Show




Andrew Garfield also did some spectacular work as Eduardo Saverin, Mark's partner and CFO of Facebook. Indeed, rumor has it Garfield was chosen as the next Spider-Man based on his work in The Social Network. In any case, he was remarkably different from his quiet performance in Never Let Me Go, and I much preferred his character here. And while I won't claim to have been preaching from the Gospel of Timberlake since the beginning, I will say that ever since 2006's Alpha Dog, I've considered Justin Timberlake a quality actor. This is easily his best role, and he injects the character of Sean Parker (the creator of Napster) with a confidence heretofore unseen in his filmography.




One other thing regarding the acting: the final credits listed Armie Hammer (formerly cast as Batman in George Miller's abandoned Justice League movie) as playing both Cameron and Tyler Winklevoss, brothers who are one of the parties suing Zuckerberg for intellectual theft. If this is true, then hats off to Mr. Hammer for fantastic dueling performances and even more congratulations to the filmmakers for pulling off an absolutely seamless transition throughout the duration of the movie. IMDb currently claims Josh Pence plays Tyler Winklevoss, but I remember the credits giving Hammer credit and recently confirmed that with a friend of mine.


In my review of Catfish, I wondered if that film might actually be more about Facebook than The Social Network. Both movies clearly speak to our connectivity in different ways: Facebook was used more as a tool in Catfish, reflecting real world applications for the site, and The Social Network arranges it as an empire with idealistic goals, posturing the site itself as an exclusive club much like the ones which Zuckerberg yearns to be invited. 




The addition of Sean Parker to the mix adds another level of complexity to the film. Best friends Eduardo and Mark clash over how to capitalize on the overnight success of the site, and Parker's flashy ways ultimately contribute to Mark and Eduardo's deteriorating relationship. Zuckerberg is smitten with Parker's business tactics, and Eduardo and his nose-to-the-grindstone methods to secure advertising are (spoiler alert for real life) slowly edged out in favor of the brazen antics of the former Napster wonderboy.


The Social Network is the kind of film in which you know you're witnessing something special as it unfolds before you. It's not breathtaking in the same way as this summer's Inception, but in a much more subtle manner - the writing, direction, acting, and music (a solid score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross) come together to tell an allegedly true story of something that has a tactile effect on our daily lives. I hesitate to throw around the term "masterpiece" since it devalues the term if every 20th movie is a masterpiece, but the more I think about it, the more this film actually applies to that definition. It's easily my favorite Fincher movie, and assuredly pulls triple duty as a coming-of-age story, a biographical time capsule, and an outstanding courtroom drama that never actually enters a courtroom. The Social Network is a must-see for members of the Facebook generation. Until next time... 


*Rooney Mara won the hotly-contested role of Lisbeth Salander in the English language remake of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, beating out the likes of Natalie Portman, Ellen Page, and many more. Fincher is also directing that project, which is filming now, and seemingly cast Mara based on her work in The Social Network. I'm not entirely sure what he saw in her as Lisbeth Salander, because it's not entirely clear from her work in this film that she's a good fit for the character. Maybe he saw something that we didn't. Guess we'll have to wait to find out.