Movie Review: mother!

mother! **** ½ / *****

Directed by: Darren Aronofsky.

Written by: Darren Aronofsky.

Starring: Jennifer Lawrence (Mother), Javier Bardem (Him), Ed Harris (Man), Michelle Pfeiffer (Woman), Brian Gleeson (Younger Brother), Domhnall Gleeson (Oldest Son), Jovan Adepo (Cupbearer), Emily Hampshire (Fool), Stephen McHattie (Zealot), Kristen Wiig (Herald).

 

Director Darren Aronofsky doesn’t do things half way – when he goes for something, he goes all in. This approach doesn’t always work – his Biblical epic Noah was a little bit of a misfire for him, and as much as I liked The Fountain, I still don’t know if that film actually works on the level Aronofsky wanted it to. His latest film, mother!, has already become notorious with at least as many people hating the film as loving it – and that’s just among critics – the consensus among moviegoers seems to be that most weren’t interested at all, and those that were, hate the film. I completely and totally understand that as mother is wildly unconventional, and goes to some insane places, that most viewers just don’t want to go. The film is a biblical allegory of course (Aronofsky has really become one of the few directors so willing to directly engage religion in his films) – and it goes for broke from the beginning. If you want something more conventional, there is literally every other movie playing at your local multiplex right now. I am amazed and delighted this film got this wide of a release, even if most audiences seem to hate it. This is one of those films that you may love, you may hate – but you won’t forget. It will be talked about for years.

 

May I also say, good for Jennifer Lawrence – who is one of the biggest movie stars in the world right now, for throwing caution to the wind and starring in this film? I like Lawrence as an actress, although I’ve been starting to think that she needed something to break her out of the type of roles she was doing – which were starting to grow stale (there were diminishing returns to her performances in David O. Russell movies for example – despite the three Oscar noms she scored for them). This is a different type of role for her – one that at first seems rather passive, but eventually gets more unhinged. In the film, she plays the younger wife of a “greater writer” (Javier Bardem) – and the pair live in the secluded house where he’s lived his whole life. A fire destroyed the interior – and she’s doing the work to restore it (“I want to build a paradise” she says in one of the films more thudding obvious metaphor lines). They seem to be happy in their childless existence, even if he cannot write anymore. Then a man shows up on their doorstep (Ed Harris) – saying he thought it was a bed and breakfast. Bardem invites him to stay anyway, much to Lawrence’s chagrin. The next day, Harris’ wife (Michelle Pfeiffer) shows up. These uninvited guests make themselves too much at home, place themselves too much into their lives, ask invasive questions, and don’t listen to anything Lawrence says. Then they’re two bickering adult sons show up to argue about the will. Things turn violent, more people show up, etc. and things spiral downwards. Just when it seems everything has come to an end, the cycle repeats itself.

 

You can take the film on a literal level in that this is the life the younger wives or older, temperamental “genius” artists have to put up with – that they are never wholly yours, and you are subject to their whims (the fact that Lawrence – 27 – started dating Aronofsky – 48 – while making this film is more than a little weird). The Biblical parallels are also there, and pretty hard to miss unless you actively want to miss them (a lot of people seem to want that). It’s not exactly a ringing endorsement of God to show him this way – or to reframe the creation the way this film in its final act. But it’s a wild ride.

 

Aronofsky matches his outlandish material with outlandish style. There are a lot of close-ups in the film – which seems focused on Lawrence’s face throughout, often with long shots as she storms through the house. The sound design in the film is brilliantly over-the-top, as is pretty much everything else. It’s a testament to Lawrence that she keeps the film together – like everyone else in the film, she is playing less a character than a symbol, but she holds the center wonderfully. Bardem is great as the almost ever smiling center of attention – proclaiming his love for Lawrence, while unable to turn away his acolytes, ever. I loved Michelle Pfeiffer as well, showing up to ruin everything. There are smaller roles that are also well played – especially by Stephen McHattie and Kristen Wiig – who show late in the proceedings.

 

Listen, I know most people are going to hate mother! Most viewers want a cleaner narrative than this, and don’t really want one long metaphor to stand in for a narrative. They want something less weird than this – more linear, more conventional. I get that, and I don’t necessarily think there is anything wrong with wanting that from your movies – especially, when you head to the multiplex on a Saturday night, thinking you may see a horror movie like Rosemary’s Baby (an obvious touchstone for this film) – and get this instead. But for me, I admired every crazy moment of mother! – which starts out crazy, and just get weirder from there. You should see it if for no other reason than you’re unlikely to see anything like it ever again.

Movie Review: Noah

Noah
Directed by: Darren Aronofsky.
Written by: Darren Aronofsky & Ari Handel.
Starring: Russell Crowe (Noah), Jennifer Connelly (Naameh), Ray Winstone (Tubal-cain), Anthony Hopkins (Methuselah), Emma Watson (Ila), Logan Lerman (Ham), Douglas Booth (Shem), Nick Nolte (Samyaza), Mark Margolis (Magog), Kevin Durand (Rameel), Leo McHugh Carroll (Japheth), Marton Csokas (Lamech), Finn Wittrock (Young Tubal-cain), Madison Davenport (Na'el), Gavin Casalegno (Young Shem), Nolan Gross (Young Ham), Skylar Burke (Young Ila), Dakota Goyo (Young Noah).

It should not have been a surprise to anyone who has followed his career that Darren Aronofsky would tackle a Biblical epic like Noah. All of his films – Pi (1998), Requiem for a Dream (2000), The Fountain (2006), The Wrestler (2008) and Black Swan (2010) – have been about obsessive characters – characters who push themselves to their absolute physical and/or mental limits in search of some sort of transcendence – something greater than themselves. His version of Noah really is no different than many of his characters, in that he is obsessed to the point of madness to accomplish his goals. It is a different sort of Biblical epic than the classic, more straight forward interpretations – as Aronofsky pushes Noah further than most would. His Noah has more than a little in common with the Jesus Christ portrayed in Martin Scorsese’s The Last Temptation of Christ – in that both are human who have been given a task by God, and struggle, not knowing whether they can finish their task, or if they are even worthy of being asked.

Russell Crowe plays Noah, the last in the line of Seth in a world otherwise dominated by the descendants of Cain. He lives with his wife, Naameh (Jennifer) and three sons – Shem (played as an adult by Douglas Booth), Ham (played as a young adult by Logan Lerman) and Japheth (Leo McHugh Carroll) – living apart from society, and subsisting on what they can gather. The Creator gives Noah a vision of death by water, and then the sprouting of new life. He does not know how to interpret this vision, so he sets out, along with his family, on a dangerous journey to find his grandfather Methuselah (Anthony Hopkins) – picking up an abandoned girl, Ila (later played by Emma Watson). Along the way, they meet The Watchers – fallen angels who went to help humanity after they were expelled from the Garden – and have been cast out of God, their form merging with the Earth, so that now they basically look like giant rock monsters, with glowing eyes. They do not want to help Noah – having given up everything for humanity, only to be betrayed by them – but one of their ranks sees a little of Adam in Noah – and so he does guide them to Methuselah. His advice to Noah is simple – He speaks to Noah, and Noah has to trust that he speaks in a way he understands. Aided by Methuselah, Noah has another vision – this time of an Arc. He is even able to convince The Watchers to help him. Flash forward 10 years – they Arc is nearly complete, his children have grown – Ham has become rebellious and questioning. And the line of Cain does not like the signs they are seeing. Led by their King, Tubal-cain (Ray Winstone) – they want to survive. Noah on the other hand sees them as the violent, wicked people they are – and is determined to help The Creator wipe humanity off the face of the Earth. He and his family will be the last people alive – and when they die, the animals will be alone to live as The Creator intended.

Noah is at once Aronofsky’s largest film, one of his most ambitious (after only The Fountain) and his most flawed. Working with a larger budget than ever before, there are times when Aronofsky seems to be somewhat compromising to give the studio the big budget, action packed epic they paid for. Nowhere is this more apparent than in The Watchers – who are rendered rather well in CGI as Rock Monsters, but whose appearance and presence seems to be mainly so Aronofsky can stage an epic battle between them and Tubal-cain’s army as they try and storm the Arc. This sequence, though well handled, does seem to be more out of a Lord of the Rings movie than the Biblical epic Aronofsky is making. The special effects in general are top notch throughout – there are no real animals in the film (which makes sense, because realistically, you couldn’t herd them all onto an Arc without God’s help) and the flood scene is thrilling – meaning I don’t really think having giant rock monsters in the film was necessary. The presence of Tubal-cain at all – especially as the film goes along – seems to be more because they wanted to have a flesh and blood villain, someone for the audience to hate, than for any real relevance to the plot. As the film progresses, Noah discovers that his adopted daughter is not barren as he thought, and is pregnant – ruining what he sees as God’s plan to end humanity – and he tells his family that if the child is a girl than he will kill it. This leads to perhaps a few too many scenes of Noah stalking around the Arc like Jack Nicholson in The Shining, terrorizing his family as he comes to the brink of insanity. Noah is a complex character, but the rest of the cast is basically given one note to play – and while actors like Connelly, Winstone, Lerman and Watson (not to mention the voices of Nick Nolte and Frank Langella as The Watchers) add something to their one note characters, I do wish they were given more to do than sit back and let Crowe overtake them.

Yet for all the flaws in Noah, I couldn’t help but be drawn into the film than Aronofsky was making – and his vision of Noah as a man striving to be worthy of The Creator and the task he has been given, even as it drives him insane. His Noah, in Crowe’s best performance in quite some time, is more human than most figures at the heart of biblical epics. Aronofsky takes the implications of what Noah is asked to do seriously – and takes the effect that such a burden would take on Noah seriously. Like The Last Temptation of Christ, it does not question whether there is a God, or even God’s wisdom – but it does look at the gravity of what is being asked of its protagonist and how such a task will affect him. For people who take the Old Testament as literal truth, Noah will probably offend – but for most religious people, I think Noah asks tough questions in a thoughtful and intelligent way. I am agnostic, and am not going to try and tell people how they should feel about Noah – but I don’t see any way a reasonable person can be all that offended by the film.

There are stunning sequences throughout Noah – Noah’s walk through the Tubal-cain camp when he thinks he’s going to find wives for his sons, that turns into a spectacular vision of hell may be my favorite. But also quieter moments – the climax, where Noah finds he cannot make the sacrifice he felt The Creator wanted him to make – and his quiet conversation with Ila later are genuinely, emotionally moving.

Aronofsky can be an easy director to mock – in an age of cynicism, he’s films by comparison are often quite earnest – he takes the questions he raises seriously, and see them through to the end. It’s this quality I admire about him as a director – that and his ambition. At times, he makes big, messy films – that can be quite flawed. Yet there is not a film of his that lacks for ambition or where he doesn’t push himself. The Fountain is certainly a flawed film – yet there are moments as great as anything we’ve seen in American film in the past 10 years. Noah isn’t that good. It’s a more straight forward, studio epic – made with Aronofsky’s typical seriousness, where I think he made a few concessions to up the thrill factor. But at its heart, this is another ambitious film for Aronofsky. I don’t think he pulls everything off in Noah – but I admire him for trying.

Movie Review: Black Swan

Black Swan ****
Directed By: Darren Aronofsky.
Written By: Mark Heyman & Andres Heinz & John McLaughlin.
Starring: Natalie Portman (Nina Sayers), Mila Kunis (Lily), Vincent Cassel (Thomas Leroy), Barbara Hershey (Erica Sayers), Winona Ryder (Beth Macintyre).

In the films of Darren Aronofsky, the characters mental state is directly tied to their physical well being. Whether it’s Randy the Ram Robinson in The Wrestler, trying desperately to hold onto his past glory, and deciding he doesn’t want to go on if his body can’t keep up with him, or the mathematician in Pi, obsessing about a formula until he has to get it out of his head, or everyone in Requiem for a Dream, deteriorating physically and mentally because of drug use, his characters are, perhaps more than most other directors, aware of their bodies (The Fountain floats somewhere outside of this, much like Hugh Jackman in that bubble, which is perhaps why although The Fountain is his most ambitious film, it is also the most problematic).

This is true of his new film, Black Swan, as well about a ballerina (Natalie Portman) obsessing about being able to play both the White and Black Swans in Swan Lake – she is innocent and fragile enough to do the white one in her sleep – but lacks the sexual prowess for the black one. But she is determined to get it right – and will do anything to achieve this goal. Like all of his films, Black Swan is a technical marvel. If The Wrestler was Aronofsky at his most stripped down and raw – than Black Swan brings him back to the grandiose style of The Fountain or Requiem for a Dream. For some, I know this is off putting – and Aronofsky will certainly be accused of going over the top by some – but for me, his style perfectly matches his subject. His has made a film that is part The Red Shoes, and part Carrie – a body horror movie reminiscent of David Cronenberg.

Portman gives what could be the performance of the year as Nina Sayers. She is a young ballerina who has been with a company in New York for years – always in the background, because their star is Beth (Winona Ryder). But, Beth is getting older, and director Thomas (Vincent Cassel) has decided he needs someone younger - more vital and sexual – for the lead in his new production of Swan Lake. Nina is an obvious choice because of her skill and dedication. The problem is, she is so uptight and uncomfortable about sex – and can never give the Black Swan that lust that is required to do the role properly. But Thomas gives her the role anyway (after she bites him when he kisses her) – and he pushes her well past her limit.

The two other major characters in the movie are Lily (Mila Kunis) and Nina’s mother (Barbara Hershey). Hershey probably watched Brian DePalma’s Carrie, and Piper Laurie’s great performance, in order to prepare for this one. She had her career ruined by having Nina in the first place, and he is alternately jealous of Nina’s success and way over protective – trying to shield Nina for all those nasty boys and their libidos. When Thomas asks Nina if she is a virgin, it is a legitimate question, and one I don’t think we can answer with any real certainly. Lily is Nina’s opposite – a sexual being if there ever was one – she even has black swan wings tattooed on her back. She is not the technical dancer Nina is, but she moves with such sexuality, that she maybe better for the role.

How much of what we see in Black Swan is real and not is open to debate. The entire movie is told from Nina’s point of view – the camera often follows directly behind her head (bringing to mind recent Dardenne brothers movies) as if it really wants to get inside and figure out what is going on. As the movie progresses, and Nina falls deeper into her delusional mind, the film takes increasingly brazen breaks from reality. What is real and what isn’t doesn’t really matter though – because it is all real to Nina. She is the center of the film, and the other characters revolve around her – defined by the way Nina interprets them. This is a risky, brilliant performance by Portman, who we genuinely feel for at the beginning of the film, and then follow her down into insanity by the end. Everyone looks at Nina with a mixture of cruelty and sexuality. Vincent Cassel does an excellent job at being unreadable as Thomas – a man who seems to want to scream at Nina and screw her at the same time. Lily is jealous of Nina, and yet looks at her with the same lust – a darker, more dangerous sexuality that hints at Nina’s true desires. Even Hershey as her mother is tied to her sexuality – so much so that Nina cannot even please herself without her mother popping into her mind. The supporting cast in brilliant, yet Portman is the center of the movie.

The film really does call to mind Aronofsky’s last film, The Wrestler. Both are movies about people whose jobs depend on their bodies, which are in danger of failing them. But while as The Wrestler was a pretty straight forward movie, brilliantly executed, but straight forward nonetheless – Black Swan is a more complex film – one that charts the odysseys of the main character as she descends into madness and despair. It is one of the year’s very best films.

God and the Cinema Part VII: Darren Aronofsky

In his first four films, Darren Aronofsky has shown that he is one of the best filmmakers in the world right now. In my mind, he has made two masterpieces – Requiem for a Dream and The Wrestler – one hugely ambitious, yet not quite perfect visionary epic – The Fountain – and a fascinating little film about math – Pi. While the films appear to be fairly far apart in terms of subject matter, they all share one theme in common. That is need. Each of the main characters in his movies need something more than anything else – they are will to sacrifice everything, die if they must, to meet these needs. They cannot help themselves. Everything else, God included, is shunted to the side.

Aronosky’s debut film, Pi, is about a mathematical genius Max Cohen (Sean Guillette), who believes that math is the language of nature, and that all numbers have a pattern. By looking at the patterns long enough, you can understand anything. His current obsession is trying to find a pattern in the stock market. By doing so, he could stand to make billions. He is pursued by two groups – a Wall Street outfit, whose interest is obvious. The other group is Hasidic Jews, who believes that the Torah, is a code sent by God, and wants Max to decipher it.

Pi is the Aronofsky film that most explicitly references God. Even the tagline of the film “Faith in Chaos” references God. Max is already paranoid at the beginning of the film. He lives behind a door with six locks, and only has one personal relationship – with his old professor. As the film progresses, Max sinks deeper into his paranoia. His super computer spits out a 216 number that at first appears meaningless, but that turns out to be much more than that. Both the Wall Street group, who think the number is the key to the stock market, and the Hasidic Jews, who believe the number represents the unspeakable name of God, and could help bring about the Messianic Age, demand Max to explain what the number means. But Max refuses. His headaches increases, as does his paranoia, until Max can no longer take. He drills a hole in his head using a power drill, and afterwards seems to be at peace with himself. He can no longer do math, but he’s happy.

What does Pi really mean? Is there a pattern to everything in universe that math can help explain? And if there is, does that mean that God doesn’t exist, or that he does? The problems become too big for Max to handle by himself, and the groups – which represent a clash between capitalism and God – force him to take desperate measures. Perhaps, there are some things man just isn’t supposed to know. Max comes to this realization by the end of the movie, and gives up. Does this mean that he is capable of overcoming his obsession and in doing so, can fully embrace God? Or can he simply embrace himself? I’m not sure.

The need for something else besides God comes into focus even more in Aronofsky’s second film – Requiem for a Dream. That film, perhaps the best ever made on the subject of drug addiction, concentrates on putting us inside the mind of a junkie. The four main characters in the movie – Sara (Ellen Burstyn), her son Harry (Jared Leto), his girlfriend Marion (Jennifer Connelly) and his friend Tyrone (Marlon Wayans) – are all addicted to drugs, and are all willing to give up everything to get them. This film is not nearly as hopeful as Pi was – the characters here never find their way out of their obsession, but instead simply sink deeper and deeper into it, until there is no escape.

Sara’s story is the saddest. She is a lonely widow, with only one child who has become a heroin addict. She spends her days by herself watching infomercials on TV. Then one day she gets a phone call telling her she is going to be on one of those infomercials she loves so much. She becomes obsessed with fitting into an old red dress of her – that her husband loved, and that she wore to her sons graduation, a proud moment for her – so she starts taking diet pills (which are essentially speed) during the day and a sedative at night. Weeks pass, and no official invitation arrives in the mail like they said it would. She starts uping her dosage, and begins to hallucinate. As the film drags on, she completely loses touch with reality.

Harry is a heroin addict, who along with fellow addicts Tyrone (also addicted to heroin) and Marion (whose drug of choice is cocaine), they go into drug dealing, hoping to get enough money to open a store where Marion can sell the clothes she designs. But this, like everything else in the movie, is simply a pipe dream. Although Harry and Marion are “together”, sex doesn’t really interest either one of them – only their next high. Problems arise, money is short, and Harry convinces Marion to sleep with her therapist for money – causing them to argue and break-up. Harry and Tyrone head for Florida, but are arrested. Harry’s arm is infected, and he has to get it amputated. Tyrone is sent to jail, where he is abused and goes through a painful withdrawal. Marion continues to degrade herself, more and more, eventually winding up at orgies where she has sex in front of cheering crowds for money.

Requiem for a Dream is an unrelentingly harsh movie from beginning to end. It is, at times, like being punched in the stomach. We want to look away, but we can’t. We sit there transfixed. The world that the addicts retreat to in the movie is one that is initially blissful, but soon becomes a nightmare. Nothing matters to them anymore – not each other, and certainly not God. They have delusions about themselves, and all the great things they will do, but they do not do any of them. They are stuck in a trap of their own making.

In The Fountain, Aronofsky most problematic, yet intriguing film, he tells three stories, set in three time periods, all which have to do with Tom (Hugh Jackman) trying to conquer death. In the present, Tom is a cancer researcher, trying desperately to find a cure for brain tumors, because his wife Izzi (Rachel Weisz) is slowly dying because of them. He breaks medical protocol by giving his research monkey an untested drug made from the sap of a tree found in Guatemala. The drug rejuvenates the monkey, at least at first, as it seems to have surprising powers.

The second story, which is a book that Izzi is writing, is set in 16th century Spain, where Queen Isabella (Weisz) sends a conquistador Tomas (Jackman) to the new world to find the tree of life. When he arrives in the New World, the Mayans at first stop Tomas from getting to the Tree of Life, but then he is identified as the First Father, a deity who sacrificed himself in order to create the world.

The third story is set in the future, and features Tom (Jackman) floating through space in an ecosphere with the tree of life. He draws sap from the tree in order to keep himself young, and travels towards a golden nebula, where he plans to plant the tree, and be able to bring Izzi back.

The Fountain is wildly ambitious, and is never less than fascinating, and visually stunning. That I don’t think it all quite comes together is a minor concern. The film is still one of the greatest achievements of the decade. In all three stories, Tom tries to concur death – and defy God – but in all three he eventually fails. In the present day, Tom has to deal with losing his wife to cancer, and trying to pick up the pieces of his life. In the future, Tom has to get over his own fear of death, and accept the fact that it comes to all men. The past is the most bleak, where Tom greedily drinks the sap from the tree in order to become immortal, only to have himself buried in leaves and flowers that burst from his body. Death is a part of life, and all three Tom’s eventually have to accept that.

Aronofsky’s most recent film, The Wrestler, at first appears to be a departure for him. It is certainly more visually “normal” than any of his other films. Yet, I find that it still does relate to his themes. Randy “The Ram” Robinson (Mickey Rourke) is like all of Aronofsky’s characters in that he craves something so much that he is willing to give up everything else for it. In Randy’s case it’s not math or drugs or death itself, but fame. He was once a famous wrestler and he got off on all the adulation he received when he was on top. The cheering crowds, the parties, the groupies, everything about it was great. Now, 20 years past his prime, Randy still craves that fame. He is down broken down – his body is giving out on him, his fans have left, his daughter (Evan Rachel Wood) hates him and he has no money. He’s stuck living in a trailer park, which he can barely afford, working part time at a grocery store and wrestling in front of smaller and smaller crowds, which brings him just a fraction of the adulation he used to get. He dreams of being back on top.

Randy only has one real “human” relationship and that’s with Cassidy (Marisa Tomei), a stripper who understands Randy in a way that no one else really does. Her body is making it harder to do her job as well, and in Randy she finds someone who she can talk to. She gets something from Randy that he used to get from the crowd – unconditional love.

The Wrestler is about Randy trying, and eventually failing, to get his life back together. He reaches out to his daughter, and maybe able to repair things if only he wasn’t so selfish. He and Cassidy take tentative steps towards romance. But in the end, all Randy knows is the roar of the crowds. It’s his drug, and he sacrifices everything for it.

You could say that Pi and The Fountain are twin movies, and that Requiem for a Dream and The Wrestler are twin movies. The first two are about characters who eventually are able to give up their obsessions, and accept life (or death) and move on. Requiem for a Dream and The Wrestler are about characters who finally cannot leave their addictions behind, and suffer the consequences because of it. All of Aronofsky’s characters at one point or another are willing to give up everything for their obsessions. Whether it ends up good or bad from them is their own choice. In order to be truly happy – closer to God if you want – you have to leave those things behind you. If you don’t, you end up like the drug addicts in Requiem for a Dream or Randy in The Wrestler. All alone in the world, careening towards a lonely, desperate death.