The Films of Todd Haynes: A Conclusion

In terms of my updated rankings, I do not think anything has changed as much as the ranking of Haynes films. And yet, my opinions on the films themselves has not changed all that much – just what I preferred this time around. Ask me again in a month – or a year – and it could be something completely different (the top 4 are pretty much interchangeable).

 

I have always loved Haynes’ work, but after watching all of his films in such a short period of time, I have even greater respect for him. There is not a film he has made that isn’t worth watching – even if some are certainly stronger than others.

 

Anyway, my updated rankings are belong. 

 

10. The Suicide (1978) – Haynes’ first college film, including on the Safe Criterion Blu-Ray. I didn’t write about it before because a) I saw it out of order, and b) there isn’t much to say. It’s not bad for a student film per se – but it is very much a student film.

 

9. Velvet Goldmine (1998) – The weakest of Haynes’ features – it is his loosest film, and I don’t think it all hangs together – as well as being insulting to David Bowie (intentional or not). There are some great moments here – but I don’t think it adds up to all that much, despite all the ambition.

 

8. Poison (1991) – Haynes’ first film – a trio of intercut shorts – is wildly ambition, and technically impressive, but it does remain more of an intellectual exercise than anything else. A great place to start – but Haynes would do much better very shortly.

 

7. Dottie Gets Spanked (1993) – In some ways, this 30 minute TV short could have been intercut with Poison – except that it’s a comedy, so it would have ruined the mood of Poison, which was so depressing. The story of a young boy who is a fan of an I Love Lucy like TV show – and how that makes him an outcast. The film is slyly subversive, and funny enough to make you want Haynes to do another comedy at some point.

 

6. Mildred Pierce (2011) – Haynes 5 part miniseries, running 5 and a half hours, adapting James M. Cain’s novel is a wonderful period piece, that is far more concerned with mood and character than story (in fact, he spends so much time on those things, he has to sprint through a lot of plot in the final installment). Kate Winslet is wonderful in the title role – as a woman who sacrifices everything for her spoiled brat of a daughter, who doesn’t deserve it. It is a more faithful adaptation than the 1945 Michael Curtiz, Oscar winning film – with Joan Crawford – but not quite as entertaining. Still, an excellent miniseries – just a notch below Haynes’ best work.

 

5. Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story (1987) – There are many things to love about Haynes’ underground film – that used the Carpenters music to great effect, and Barbie dolls to greater effect, as all the characters in the film are Barbie’s. You may think that Haynes is doing all of this mocking his subject – but he isn’t. He actually seems to love Karen Carpenter’s music, and the movie is genuinely moving. This seems like a stunt – and maybe it is. But it’s a brilliant stunt.

 

4. I’m Not There (2007) – Bob Dylan is an impossible biopic subject, because I don’t think he’s ever let the public in on who he actually is, what makes him tick, and why he changes his persona so often, while remaining perfectly consistent in other ways. Haynes finds the only way to make a Dylan biopic and make it work – and delivers a stunning technical achievement, with many great performances. The drop from #1 to #4 is not because I love the film less – just that it perhaps moved me a little less than the top 3 this time through.

 

3. Far From Heaven (2002) – Haynes does a brilliant job of recreating the 1950s melodramas of Douglas Sirk – like Written on the Wind, Imitation of Life or All That Heaven Allows, but going further than Sirk ever could in terms of sexuality and race. Films like this – so stepped in homage – can feel like mere exercises – but Haynes’ films works brilliantly on its own terms in addition to be an homage. A stunning film.

 

2. Carol (2015) – This is perhaps the simplest of Haynes’ masterpieces – the film that doesn’t have as many ideas as the others. Yet, it is also among the most stunning visual achievements of Haynes’ career, and the best quietly moving. I’ve lived with this for a much shorter period of time than the rest – so perhaps this changes (either up or down) – but for now, this feels like the right place.

 

1. Safe (1995) – Out of all of Haynes’ films, Safe is the one that haunts me the most – the one I cannot stop thinking about. I think the first few times I saw it – years ago – it transfixed and confused me in equal measures. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I’m still not 100% sure what to make of it – I just know I want to see it again. Right now. A masterpiece.

The Films of Todd Haynes: Carol (2015)

Carol (2015)

Directed by: Todd Haynes.

Written by: Phyllis Nagy based on the novel by Patricia Highsmith.

Starring: Cate Blanchett (Carol Aird), Rooney Mara (Therese Belivet), Kyle Chandler (Harge Aird), Jake Lacy (Richard Semco), Sarah Paulson (Abby Gerhard), John Magaro (Dannie McElroy), Cory Michael Smith (Tommy Tucker), Kevin Crowley (Fred Haymes), Nik Pajic (Phil McElroy), Carrie Brownstein (Genevieve Cantrell), Trent Rowland (Jack Taft).

 

Watching Carol for the second time in a matter of months – shortly after having re-watched all of Todd Haynes films only increased my love of his latest film. This is the only film in his career that Haynes did not have a hand in writing, and even though it does seem like it was tailored to him, I also noticed that even more than normal, Carol is stunning visual film – a film where more is communicated through looks and gestures, subtle camera move and shots, than in anything that the characters actually do say to each other. That has always been true in one sense or another of Haynes film – but it’s heightened here. Carol would work perfectly well as a silent film – with just Carter Burwell’s wonderful score carrying it along.

 

Carol is one of the best modern, cinematic love stories – an erotically charged movie that is more sexual and sensual than many, far more explicit movies could possibly be. It stars Rooney Mara, in a wonderfully subtle, quiet performance as Therese – an apprising photographer in 1950s New York, with a job in a department store toy section, and a perfectly nice boyfriend (Jake Lacy – who seems to specialize in playing perfectly nice boyfriends). It’s at her job that she meets Carol (Cate Blanchatt) – a rich housewife, going through a divorce from Harge (Kyle Chandler, who may not be as perfectly nice as Jake Lacy, but is far from a villain either – he’s just a sad man who loves a woman who cannot love him back). Carol’s there to buy a doll for her daughter for Christmas – but who allows herself to be talked into a train instead by Therese. On the surface, their initial conversation is innocent enough – but there is a charge between them even then. Blanchatt does something quite daring in these early scenes, as she acts lays on everything a bit thick – almost to the point of it looking like bad acting. It’s perfect for these scenes though because, of course, it’s the character not the actress who is laying it on so thick. For her part, Mara does a wonderful job conveying the confusion and tumult that Therese is going through – she knows that their relationship isn’t quite normal, and doesn’t know quite what to do about it – just that she wants it to continue. That the two actresses share this connection – without them verbalizing it – is one of the accomplishments of the movie.

 

There isn’t much plot to the movie. It is about how far these two women are willing to go – how much they are willing to sacrifice to be together. The film is based on a novel by Patricia Highsmith, but it isn’t really a thriller like she is mostly known for (like Strangers on a Train of the Tom Ripley novels) – although there is a tension of a different sort here. The two women will eventually hit the road together – on a cross country road trip to nowhere in particular – as Carol tries to escape her feelings of futility as her divorce threatens to turn nasty. It’s here the women really do come together after an extended buildup – even as them doing so could destroy them.

 

There doesn’t need to be much plot though – the movie has more than enough just when it’s focused on the two brilliant performances at the core – and everything around them that enhances that connection. The cinematography by Ed Lachman is probably the best work he has ever done for Haynes. The colors are more muted than they were in Far From Heaven – which went full Sirk – yet still classical in nature – a little film noir, a little 1950s melodrama. Carter Burwell’s Score is some of the best he has ever done – for Haynes, or anyone else for that matter, and is the perfect mood setter for the film. The costumes, production design, etc. are, as usual for Haynes, just about perfect.

 

Carol is another masterpiece from Haynes – but unlike many of his films, it’s the simplicity of the film that works so well in its favor. There are not as many ideas floating around in Carol as in films like Safe, Far From Heaven or I’m Not There for example. It is a much simpler love story. Complexity though doesn’t necessarily mean greatness – and the final moments in Carol may just be the best work Haynes has ever filmed. Carol is an erotic film and a touching love story all at once. It contains moments that haunt me – and as pure cinema, it’s as brilliant as anything Haynes has ever done.

2016 Half Time Top 10

If year-end top tens are silly – and they are, as much as I love them – then a half time top 10 is sillier still, but what the hell, I still enjoy them (not sure why so many outlets now post their half time top 10s in early June – that seems to be making an already silly process even sillier).

 

Anyway, I’ve seen 61 films so far from 2016, which is a little bit less than normal, but then I often spend a little bit more time in the early part of the year revisiting classics (or watching ones I’ve never seen before) – before I pick up the slack sometime in the summer and catch-up.

 

Some of the titles I would have liked to have seen but didn’t get around to (either because they only played in Toronto, and came and went quickly, or in some case, pure laziness) so far include: Chevalier (Athina Rachel Tsangari), Demolition (Jean Marc Vallee), Eye in the Sky (Gavin Hood), Hello My Name is Doris (Michael Showalter), Maggie’s Plan (Rebecca Miller), The Measure of a Man (Stephane Brize), The Meddler (Lorene Scafaria), Miles Ahead (Don Cheadle), Neon Bull (Gabriel Mascaro), The Neon Demon (Nicolas Winding Refn), Sing Street (John Carney), The Wailing (Hong-jin Na). Then there are films that, unless I missed them, haven’t played in Canada at all that I want to see, including: City of Gold (Laura Gabbert), Cosmos (Andrzej Zulawski), The Fits (Anna Rose Holmer), Last Days in the Desert (Rodrigo Garcia), Louder Than Bombs (Joachim Trier), My Golden Days (Araund Desplechin), Pervert Park (Frida Barkfors & Lasse Barkfors), Tickled (David Farrier &Dylan Reeve), The Treasure (Corneliu Porumboiu), A War (Tobias Lindholm), Weiner (Josh Kriegman & Elyse Steinberg).

 

But enough about what I haven’t seen, and onto what I have seen. It has actually been a pretty good year so far, with quite a few highlights so far. Films that I considered for the top 10 but didn’t have room for include: A Bigger Splash (Luca Guadagnino) an incredibly sexy thriller and drama, with four great performances for Ralph Fiennes, Mathias Schoenarts, Dakota Johnson and especially Tilda Swinton, in director Guadagnino’s (too) long awaited for follow-up to the even better I Am Love. De Palma (Noah Baumbach & Jake Paltrow) is a fascinating, film-by-film, breakdown of the director’s career by the man himself. Dheepan (Jacques Audiard) is not Audiard’s best film, nor did it deserve to win the 2015 Palme D’Or, but it has two great performances, and is three quarters of an excellent movie, that kind of goes off the rails in the end. Everybody Wants Some!! (Richard Linklater) was billed as a spiritual sequel to his Dazed & Confused, and it works like that – meaning that perhaps it just seems like minor Linklater, until you watch it over and over again, which you definitely could, since it’s so effortlessly fun. Finding Dory (Andrew Stanton) isn’t top notch Pixar, but it’s better than any other mainstream animated film you’ll likely see this year. High-Rise (Ben Wheatley) is an excellent adaptation of J.G. Ballard’s work, getting the tone right, the look and feel right, and has a great Tom Hiddleson performance in it – even if, after an hour or so, it repeats itself. The Invitation (Karyn Kusama) is a tense thriller about a dinner party from hell – with a great ensemble cast. The Jungle Book (Jon Favreau) was easiest the best of the big blockbusters this year, wondrously entertaining and fun, brilliant special effects and the type of film that is destine to become a family classic. Knight of Cups (Terrence Malick) is not top tier Malick, especially since it really does repeat itself (over and over again), but it is brilliantly well made, and kept me enthralled for most of its runtime. Love & Friendship (Whit Stillman) has no plot, and is meaningless trifle, but it is pure fun from beginning to end, with great performances by Kate Beckinsale and Tom Bennett. The Nice Guys (Shane Black) is exactly what you want in a Shane Black, 1970s set, L.A. comedy/noir, with a great performance by Russell Crowe, and an even better one by Ryan Gosling. Right Now, Wrong Then (Hong Sang-soo) is a wonderful film – I really wanted to include it above, and perhaps I should have – where Hong basically tells the same story twice, with some subtle and not so subtle differences. Zootopia (Byron Howard & Rich Moore) was Disney animation at its finest, and is pure fun, that also has something to say.

 

And now, onto the top 10. If you’re curious, I think the top 3 have a legitimate shot at placing on my top 10 at year’s end (that is, if I decide #1 will be eligible – I’m not sure yet, but for a half time list, I’m not going to question it). A quick note – I don’t spend much time on the actual ranking here – not nearly as much as I’ll do at the year end, so it may well change by then.

  

10. Krisha (Trey Edward Shults)

In many ways, Krisha sounds like a typical indie – a recovering drug addict comes home to their family for Thanksgiving – and ends up making a mess. But Krisha is hardly the kind of comforting indie, quirky dramedy that makes waves at Sundance and then is forgotten when it hits theaters – it’s actually a devastating film, anchored by one of the very best performances of the year by Krisha Fairchild – as the drug addict. The film is also brilliantly well made – almost as if John Cassavetes, Robert Altman and David Lynch collaborated on a project, as the movie begins with realism, and gradually becomes surreal. The overall arc of the movie isn’t too surprising – once you realize this isn’t going to be a film that seeks to comfort the viewer, there’s really only one way for all this to end, and the third act of this film that doesn’t even run 90 minutes feels rushed. Still, it’s a remarkable debut film by writer/director Trey Edward Shults – and an even better performance by Fairchild.

 

9. The Witch (Robert Eggers)

Robert Eggers’ The Witch is a horror movie about a teenage girl and her family in 1600s New England – with a father who has ostracized the rest of their community, a mother willingly embracing delusions, and the girl at the center becoming a woman – and just what that means in many different senses. The film is a slow burn – it starts with a bang, with a baby going missing – but from there, it’s all about mounting tension – the sins of the parents coming down on the children, and ending with a memorable climax, that should stir up debate among audience’s members. There are nightmare inducing moments in the film – and Eggers knows how to build these properly – but it is basically about this family, who more or less, destroy themselves. This is a great horror film, in a year that has had several so far – I probably need to re-watch it, as I haven’t seen it since TIFF last September (who knows, maybe it should be higher on this list).

 

8. Midnight Special (Jeff Nichols)

Jeff Nichols’ Midnight Special continues his streak of interesting films that grow in your mind once they are over. This is his “biggest” film to date – inspired in equal parts by early Spielberg and John Carpenter – yet also distinctly Nichols own film. The film, which stars Michael Shannon (of course) in a great performance as a father on the run with his very special son – aided by Joel Edgerton, and eventually his former wife, Kristen Dunst – Midnight Special goes to unexpected places, on its way to a climax that, months later, I’m still turning over in my mind. Does it all work? I honestly don’t know – the film is more “flawed” than previous Nichols films like Take Shelter and Mud – but it’s also more ambitious. One thing is for sure, I still cannot wait to see what the man does next.

 

7. Mountains May Depart (Jia Zhangke)

Chinese filmmaker Jia Zhangke followed up my personal favorite of his films – A Touch of Sin – with this triptych of stories about the every changing landscape in China, and the emergence of capitalism and what it means to the country (basically, what Zhangke has been addressing for his entire, brilliant career). The first part is set in 1999, as a young woman (Jia’s wife and muse Tao Zhao) has to decide between two friends – the one who owns the local mine, and the one who works for it. In the second, set in 2014, death and divorce has come down on some of the players from the first part – as Zhao tries to re-connect with the son she realizes she barely knows. In the third, in 2025, that son is now grown up and living in Australia – having forgotten about his homeland almost entirely. The first two segments are brilliant – as good as anything Jia has ever done. The third one works thematically more than in practice – in part, I think, because it’s the first time Jia has worked in English, and the dialogue runs false. Still, two thirds of a great Jia film (and 1 third an average one) is still better than what most filmmakers could come up with.

 

6. 10 Cloverfield Lane (Dan Trachtenberg)

Count me as someone who didn’t really need a Cloverfield sequel (or spin-off, or whatever the hell they ended up calling this thing) – but I loved this film just the same. I liked the original Cloverfield as well, but prefer my thrillers like this – tense, claustrophobic, with legitimately surprising twists and turns, and wonderful performances (which I won’t reveal here, because if you haven’t seen the movie, I don’t want to spoil it). Directed by Dan Trachtenberg, the film builds tension as three characters –played by Mary Elizabeth Winstead, John Goodman and John Gallagher Jr. – who bounce off each other like ping pong balls. The ending of the film is a treat – even if you kind of see it coming (because of the name). This is how you make a a mainstream thriller, on a budget – and how you market one, keeping it secret until fairly late in the game, before springing it on people who didn’t even know they wanted it in the first place.

 

5. Sleeping Giant (Andrew Cividino)

Andrew Cividino’s wonderful debut film is one of the best Canadian films in recent years – a film about three boys on summer vacation – one rich, and a pair of cousins who decidedly are not – and the petty jealously and masculine posturing that lead them into real trouble. In many ways, the film feels familiar – and yet, I think it’s that familiairity that makes the film so disturbing and powerful as it reaches its climax – which pushes beyond where many films of this ilk would go. This is not a reassuring film about youth – but it’s also not one that tries to raise the alarm bells with being needlessly provocative – instead it’s a film about small actions have large consequences. All three performances by the teens at the center are great – none more so than by Nick Serino as the volatile Nate, who acts the toughest, because he is really the most vulnerable (where the innocent seeming rich kid, is really the one who sets everything in motion). Sleeping Giant is a sneaky film – in that it sneaks up on you as you’re watching it, than refuses to leave you once you have seen it. This one has only grown in my mind since I saw it.

 

4. Hail, Caesar! (Joel & Ethan Coen)

Audiences didn’t really like the Coen’s latest film, and too many critics dismissed it as minor Coens – an entertaining trifle. Entertaining it certainly is – trifle, it certainly isn’t. The film is though one of the Coen’s most positive films – a Christ story, wrapped up in a love letter to Hollywood, where the brothers brilliantly recreate many styles of films made famous in the studio era – especially musicals (the dance number with Channing Tatum is in particular a highlight), There are many other highlights in the film however – like every time Alden Ehrenreich is on screen as a seemingly dimwitted Western star, who the studio hilariously tries to cast in a period romance (Ehrenreich gets my vote for performance of the year so far). The film is clever and funny, brilliantly well made, fun, but with a little more heft than people give it credit for. It’s not a Coen film – like No Country for Old Men or Fargo – where everyone immediately knows it’s a masterpiece. It’s one of those Coen films – like The Big Lebowski – that everyone realizes was great, five years later.

 

 

3. Green Room (Jeremy Saulnier)

Jeremy Saulnier’s Green Room is a great genre film – an intense, claustrophobic thriller that verges into horror territory, as a young, punk band finds themselves at the mercy of a group of neo-Nazis, after a show when they stumble onto the aftermath of a murder, and spend most of the movie locked in a room with the dead body – with the neo-Nazis outside just waiting for them. On that surface level, the film works brilliantly – Saulnier, whose last film Blue Ruin, was a similarly bloody thriller, ups the ante here. He gets great performances out of the entire cast – Patrick Stewart, as the weary leader of the Neo-Nazis is a highlight, but there’s fine work by Anton Yelchin and Alia Shawkat as two of the band members, Imogen Poots as the quiet heart of the film, and Blue Ruin star Macon Blair, as someone who gets what he wants, but doesn’t want it anymore. There are layers to Green Room though that elevate it about most thrillers – levels of politics associated with both groups embracing outdated ideology. And the entire film works, I think, as a metaphor for being young and stupid – thinking you know everything about the world, and then realizing with brutal clarity that you know nothing. The film didn’t become the hit it deserved – but it’s masterful, and confirms that Saulnier is one of the best young directors around.

 

2. The Lobster (Yorgos Lanthimos)

Yorgos Lanthimos’ English language debut is a deadpan comic masterwork. The first half of the film is about Colin Farrell’s David – an accountant (of course, because when you need a loser in a film, you make them an accountant) – who goes to a hotel, where he has 90 days to find a mate, or he will be turned into an animal of his choosing. This part is hilarious, as it skewers society’s obsessive with love and marriage – how society forces the traditional ideal of a nuclear family down on everyone, whether they want it or not. Yet, the second half of the film – out in the forest, does almost the exact opposite – pushing back at those who push back too forcefully at those ideals. Somehow, against all odds, Lanthimos has made The Lobster into a real love story – one whose outcome we still don’t know at the end as the film with a masterfully ambigious ending. This is a funny, challenging, ambitious, brilliant film – worth the year it took to be released after it debuted at Cannes in May 2015.

 

1. O.J. : Made in America (Ezra Edelman)

While it may sound like hyperbole, I firmly believe that O.J. Made in America is the best documentary of the 21^st Century so far. This seven and a half hour doc, made for the great ESPN 30 for 30 series (which has many great episodes – though strangely, the best one before this was Brett Morgan’s June 17^th, 1994 from 2010 – which played like channel surfer on the craziest sports day ever – including OJs run in the Bronco). The reason the film is as brilliant as it is, is because director Ezra Edelman takes a wide view on Simpson – never concentrating solely on the man and his actions – although that is there too, of course – but on his place in society, and what was happening around him. The irony that Simpson, who spent his entire professional career distancing himself from other African Americans, and their causes, would end up being a cause for celebration in Black America with the trial, is not lost on Edelman – it’s almost the point of the documentary. The film joins the ranks of films like Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing (1989) as the greatest ever made about race relations in America – it uses O.J. as a lens to explore that, and placing him on a continuum that includes the Watts Riots, and decades of police abuse, specifically Rodney King (and by inference, to what is happening today). Words don’t do justice to this film – which is a masterpiece. When it comes to my year-end top 10 list, I’ll have to make the decision as to whether it should be eligible or not – they did qualify the film for Oscars by releasing it in L.A. for a week before its premiere, although that’s basically a technicality for what is essentially a TV movie. Yet, no matter what you call the film, it is a masterpiece – pure and simple – and certainly the best way to spend 7 hours and 45 minutes this year.

Movie Review: The Shallows

The Shallows
Directed by: Jaume Collet-Serra.
Written by: Anthony Jaswinski.
Starring: Blake Lively (Nancy), Óscar Jaenada (Carlos), Brett Cullen (Father), Sedona Legge (Chloe).

Horror films are probably the most personal genre in film – in the way that you cannot always rationally describe what makes some horror films scary, and some not, to different people. For example, while I can appreciate a good ghost story in film – and they can scare me in the moment, they usually do not end up haunting my dreams, simply because I don’t believe in ghosts (the exception is Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining – the greatest horror film ever made, and of course, it may not be a ghost story at all). However, even the lamest of home invasion horror films will scare the crap out of me – especially since I became a father. Something about someone invading my home – the place where I should be the safest – scares me to death, and these films (like the French film Ils or the underrated The Strangers) stay with me for years after I have seen them. Another example, which dates back to my childhood when I saw Steven Spielberg’s Jaws way too young, is shark movies. I was scared my entire childhood of being eaten by a shark – even when I was in a swimming pool, and I knew that fear was completely irrational. It’s a fear that has never left me – which is probably why I enjoy cheesy films like Deep Blue Sea (1999) so much, and why the low budget Open Water (2003) remains one of the scariest films of the new millennium so far.

Jaume Collet-Serra’s The Shallows is actually kind of a combination between those two films – it has some of Open Water’s paranoia, trapping one person (in Open Water it was two, but still), in one location, chased by shark (or sharks) for its entire running time, but it has some of the big budget cheese of Deep Blue Sea – an obviously CGI shark, bloody deaths, and an unlikely climax that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but damn if it isn’t fun.

Like many films of this kind, the film opens with idyllic beauty – a young woman, Nancy (Blake Lively) is on vacation in Mexico, and wants to go surfing at the same hidden beach her mother did 25 years ago when she found out she was pregnant with her. The movie gives Nancy more backstory than she needs – about death and giving up and yada yada yada, apparently because the film believes you won’t believe the fight Nancy puts up without that backstory – as if simply trying to fight off a giant shark isn’t enough. The beach is isolated – she is dropped off by a helpful stranger, and there are only two other surfers there. As they are packing up to go, Nancy decides to catch one more wave – and makes a mistake. She drifts too far – almost right on top of the bloated, floating corpse of a giant whale – which of course has attracted the attention of a giant shark. Now that she has entered that sharks feeding zone, he’s pissed, and determined to kill her. She is able to get to a rock that will protect her – but only until high tide, and then she’s screwed.

The film runs only 87 minutes, and to be honest, that’s a little long for the film – a 70 minute film could have been leaner and tauter, and perhaps even more terrifying for everything it didn’t show. Part of the Hollywood machine however requires that if you’re going to make a movie about a giant shark, that sharks has to eat some people, so the film throws in a few unnecessary characters basically as chum – and although I admired the way director Jaume Collet-Serra handled those deaths – mainly, he doesn’t belabor them (the first death really is brilliantly handled, and could have worked in a more stripped down version of this story). The weakest moments of the film are when the shark itself is visible as more than just a dorsal fin or a shadow – it’s not an especially convincing CGI creation, especially as the film moves along, and requires more face-to-face interaction with Lively.

For her part, Lively is terrific in the film – the best I’ve ever seen her really. You can be cynical and say she was only cast because of how she looks in a bikini – which is great by the way, or because of her butt – which gets at least as much screen time as her face in the first third of the film, as the camera never misses a chance to lovingly frame it as she paddles out on her surf board, or changes into her wetsuit, etc. Yet, even if that was the reason for her casting, Lively handles everything in this performance amazingly well – this is a physical performance as much as anything, and one that requires her to spend a lot of time by herself, and quiet (the film may have worked even better if she was quiet more – her asides either to herself or to her seagull friend Steven – are mostly unnecessary, and assume the audience will be too dim to get what she’s thinking otherwise). It is a quietly intense performance, and an effective one, that keeps the film afloat, even when it drifts too far into CGI spectacle.

The film did scare me quite a bit – as I said, I am petrified of sharks – even though when I think about it, The Shallows isn’t really a horror film, as much as a survival film – it’s more All is Lost or The Revenant than it is Jaws or Open Water. It is a remarkably simple film – but an effective one. If the filmmakers had simplified it even more, it would have been even better.

Movie Review: Right Now, Wrong Then

Right Now, Wrong Then

Directed by: Sang-soo Hong.

Written by: Sang-soo Hong.

Starring: Jae-yeong Jeong (Ham Cheon-soo), Min-hee Kim (Yoon Hee-jeong).

 

Korean director Hong Sang-soo is one of the most prolific directors around – Right Now, Wrong Then is his 17^th feature in just a 20 year career so far. I’m hardly a Hong expert – I’ve only seen a handful of his films – but I know enough to get why those who love his work do so, and why those who think he makes the same film over and over again, say that as well. That criticism is more or less true – much like it was for Eric Rohmer, one of Hong’s biggest influences. In a Hong film, you will almost assuredly have two people meeting – the man almost always a film director, the woman a local in a town that director is visiting an is unfamiliar with – and through the course of a long day, a lot of drinking and talking will be done, and things are not destined to work out for the couple. Hong doesn’t really make movies about the beginning of a long term love affair – instead, he usually makes films about those missed opportunities – those brief encounters you’ll remember forever, even though they only lasted a few hours.

 

Out of the Hong films I have seen, his latest, Right Now, Wrong Then is far an away my favorite. It’s really two films, or perhaps more accurately, two different versions of the same film – which resets after an hour with the two main characters, and tells the same story again – although this time with some differences. Sometimes those differences are subtle – the same words being spoken, with different vocal inflections for instance, as which happens with the first time director Ham (Jae-yeong Jeong) meets a young woman named He-jeong (Min-hee Kim). In the first meeting, she seems to be flirting with the director – who is clearly flirting with her. In the second, she seems almost standoffish – that this man is bothering her, but she’s too polite to say that (and he seems oblivious). It would be too simple, I think, to describe these two halves as first his perspective, and then hers – because Hong gives no indication that is the case here. Instead, he’s doing something trickier – showing how the exact same two people can meet twice, and then have things go in different directions. The first one ends in anger, the second in melancholy for what might have been. For all the differences between the two segments, it’s really a question as to whether or not the director lies which determines the course of the film.

 

The film is clearly Hong’s from the outset – it has his trademark long shots, and many zooms (he’s one of the only filmmakers using zooms this way, and given how effective it is, you have to wonder why more don’t do it). In a Hong film, small gestures are important, and they are really important here as well – more so than normal, given that the differences between the two segments are part of the point of the movie, and some of them are tough to spot.

 

In the first segment, Ham is a liar, who is also clearly trying to pick Hee-jeong up. He flatters her about her artwork, tells her how pretty she is, gets her drunk – all before he reveals he is a liar, in a way that I don’t think he realizes. The segment ends the next day at the film festival, where he is presenting his film, and giving a Q&A afterwards, and he is, to be blunt, a jerk. In the second segment, Hee-jeong is more in control of herself – more purposeful and confident. And, for his part, Ham is much more honest – this leads to an incredibly awkward moment where he criticizes her art, but it’s a real moment. He also doesn’t lie about the thing that get her really angry in the first part. The film ends, again, at the film festival – but on a sadder, less angry note. You don’t much like Ham in the first half – and Hee-jeong seems too much adrift. In the second part, you like both of them. The performances by the two leads are hugely important in this film – and it also shows growth for Hong, who in the past could be accused of having really interesting male characters, and uninteresting female ones. That’s not true here.

 

Is Right Now, Wrong Then just a stylistic exercise though? An experiment that Hong is conducting just to see if he can? Is it a gimmick? To a certain extent, sure. But then again Christopher Nolan’s Memento is clearly a gimmick, as is Richard Linklater’s Boyhood – it’s how the filmmakers execute those gimmicks that matters. While Hong’s film is clearly not quite in that league, it’s a very good film – the best of his work I have seen.

Movie Review: The Boy and the Beast

The Boy and the Beast
Directed by: Mamoru Hosoda.

Written by: Mamoru Hosoda.

Starring: Koji Yakusho (Kumatetsu), Shota Sometani (Kyuta), Aoi Miyazaki (Kyuta – child), Suzu Hirose (Kaede), Yo Oizumi (Tatara), Lily Franky (Hyakushubo), Masahiko Tsugawa (Soshi), Kazuhiro Yamaji (Iozen), Mamoru Miyano (Ichirohiko), Haru Kuroki (Ichirohiko – child), Kappei Yamaguchi (Jiromaru), Momoka Ono (Jiromaru – child).

 

The Boy and the Beast is the latest anime film from Japan to get a cursory release in North American theaters, before heading to home viewing options. Even if these films often do not make much waves when they are released theatrically – they are often among the best the world of animation has to offer in any given year. Animated films made in Japan tend to treat children with more respect – they don’t coddle or comfort them too much, and certainly do not shy away from some darker, more realistic aspects of childhood. In some respects, that is true of The Boy and the Beast – which really does try and treat children with more respect, and draw an interesting contrast between the real and fantasy worlds in the film (a staple of children’s stories – but rarely handled this way). Unfortunately though, all of the good stuff in The Boy and the Beast is buried under a disjointed, repetitive and not particularly engaging story. There is some good stuff here – just not enough to make The Boy and the Beast a good movie.

 

The hero of the story is a 9 year old named Ren, who is shipped off to live with some relatives after his mother’s death (his father is no longer in the picture) – and almost immediately runs away. He ends up in a fantasy world, as the apprentice to Kumatetsu – a giant bear-man creature, who could become the ruler of this fantasy land, but first needs to prove himself to its current ruler – a wise, old bunny-man. It has come down to Kumatetsu and his arch-rival, Iozen, for the “promotion” as it were – and while everyone loves Iozen, no one seems to much like or respect Kumatetsu – and for good reason. He is lazy, crude, rude and quick to anger – and unlike Iozen, he doesn’t even have one apprentice. With Ren, he hopes to show that he can be a good leader and teacher – and as the years pass, it becomes clear that both are learning from each other.

 

In the second half of the film, the film skips ahead about 8 years, to when Ren is 17 (strangely, the decision regarding who will be the next ruler, still has not been made). In that time, Ren has matured in some ways – and is actually returning to the “real world”, developing a sweet romance with a shy bookworm, who helps him learn to read better, and prepare for things like college, while at the same time, he tries to reconnect with his real father, who he barely knows. In some ways, he has outgrown Kumatetsu, who is a creature that only an angry 9 year old boy would find cool in the first place. The film is ultimately about that anger and rage that young men of all kind have to deal with and overcome – in the fantasy world Ren has escaped to, humans are feared, because it is assumed that they will eventually become monsters incapable of controlling their rage.

 

In some ways, all of this makes for interesting subtext to the movie – but as is the case with most films, if the text itself isn’t very good, you don’t much care for the subtext. The film kind of beats you over the head with its message, and drags on its minimal storyline for nearly two hours, even though it doesn’t have enough material to fill it. I wasn’t particularly impressed with the animation of the film either – its fine, and the action sequences are well handled, and yet, I don’t think there’s a memorable image in the entire film – not that that sticks out anyway.

 

I appreciate that The Boy and the Beast is trying to do something here – trying to show how Ren outgrows Kumatetsu, and that world, and tries to forge his own path – that essentially, he can only hide from the real world for so long. Yet, all that is buried beneath a surface that just isn’t all that good.

The Films of Todd Haynes: Mildred Pierce (2011)

Mildred Pierce (2011)

Directed by: Todd Haynes.

Written by: Todd Haynes & Jonathan Raymond based on the novel by James M. Cain.

Starring: Kate Winslet (Mildred Pierce), Guy Pearce (Monty Beragon), Evan Rachel Wood (Veda Pierce), Morgan Turner (Veda Pierce), Brían F. O'Byrne (Bert Pierce), Melissa Leo (Lucy Gessler), James Le Gros (Wally Burgan), Mare Winningham (Ida Corwin), Marin Ireland (Letty), Hope Davis (Mrs. Forrester), Quinn McColgan (Ray Pierce).

 

Todd Haynes’ films have mainly been about their look and feel, and not necessarily about their plots. This isn’t to say the plotting of Haynes’ films have been sloppy – anything but – just that the plot of his films can often be summarized in just a few short sentences, that do not give you the least idea of what it’s like to actually watch a Haynes film. The one real exception may be his 2011 miniseries – Mildred Pierce, based on the novel by James M. Cain, and clocking in at five and half hours. The film has a lot of plot and characters – yet Haynes still remains focused on the look and feel of the film, and the characters, and not quite so much on the plot. Even at this length, the final installment feels a little rushed – as if Haynes realized he still had a lot of stuff to cram in, and had to get it in under the wire (the first three segments all clock in right around an hour – the fourth runs over 70 minutes, and the fifth 80). The miniseries may not quite live up to the best films Haynes has ever made – but it’s still excellent, full of great period detail and performances – and represents a truer adaptation of McCain’s novel than the Oscar winning 1945 film with Joan Crawford, and directed by Michael Curtiz (although truer, doesn’t necessarily mean better).

 

The miniseries takes place over the better part of a decade – the 1930s – in which Mildred Pierce (Kate Winslet) has to struggle to support her two daughters. Her husband, Bert (Brian F. O’Bryne) has walked out on the family – and didn’t have much money to begin with – although he did when he and Mildred first got married. Mildred has no marketable skills, and it is the Great Depression after all. But she’s willing to work hard – first as a waitress and baker, and then when she opens her own restaurant – serving chicken and waffles. While the country is collapsing, Mildred makes herself into a success. In many ways, she is the personification of the American dream – at least on the surface.

 

But if Mildred Pierce were just about a hard working woman, there wouldn’t be enough drama here. The story is really about how Mildred’s American dream turns into a nightmare – all because of her eldest daughter, and Mildred’s inability to say no to her. From the beginning of the film, Veda (then played by Morgan Turner) is a snob, who looks down on anyone who has to work for a living – embarrassed by the fact that her mother works as a waitress, and finding ways to punish her for it. Mildred scrimps and saves everything so that Veda can have the music lessons she wants, the piano she wants, etc. Even her relationship with men is dictated by Veda. Mildred falls for Monty Beragon (Guy Pearce) – a wealthy playboy, who has never done a day’s work in his life, and of course, he hits it off with Veda, who shares his snobbery. When Monty’s family fortune is wiped out though, he still doesn’t feel he has to work – and leeches money off of Mildred, resenting her the entire time he does it.

 

The 1945 film version of the novel turned it into a murder mystery/noir – which is what Cain is mostly known for (The Postman Always Rings Twice and Double Indemnity for example), but not here. It also serves to give the film a happier ending, as the character that audiences are likely to hate gets their comeuppance in that film, that Cain, and then Haynes, does not. The story is about parental sacrifice – something all good parents do to one extent or another – but this time taken to extremes. Veda is an incredibly selfish and spoiled – a child who thinks that everything should be handed to her on a silver platter. If we feel sympathy for Mildred, we also have to be honest and lay much of the blame on her as well. After all, many children are selfish – it is the parent’s job to teach them something, and by giving in to Veda’s every whim – even if it destroys Mildred – she is simply reinforcing the lessons that Veda really is entitled to everything. Veda manipulates everyone around her – including her mother – to get what she wants.

 

As Mildred, Kate Winslet delivers a typically superb performance – one where you can feel her desperation in that first installment, as she goes door-to-door looking for working, and not finding it. Winslet is, refreshing, one of the most unapologetic actresses in dealing with sexuality – and her Mildred is a sexual being, going from Bert to Wally Burgan (James LeGros) to Monty with apology or shame. Her relationship with Monty will eventually be mainly about Veda, but when they first meet, the sexual chemistry between them is palpable. Winslet does, subtly, change her mannerisms as the series goes by – aging in the final installments, where she plays Mildred sliding into middle age, especially compared to the lithe, overtly sexual turn by Evan Rachel Wood as a 20 year old Veda (Wood, like everyone else in the film, is excellent). Winslet’s Mildred Pierce is every bit as fascinating as the other “housewives” in Haynes’ filmography – from Julianne Moore in Safe and Far From Heaven to Cate Blanchatt in Carol. What’s even more impressive is that all four of those characters are completely different from each other – all of whom may be living in a patriarchal society, where they are oppressed – but all of them are oppressed in different ways, and respond differently. Mildred may simultaneously be the strongest and most independent, and also the most foolish – she builds up and then loses everything.

 

Mildred Pierce isn’t quite the masterwork that Haynes’ other period pieces – Far From Heaven and Carol – are. I think in some ways, the film is too rushed, and in others it is too dragged out. Haynes has always loved immersing the audience in period detail – not necessarily realistic period detail, but more stylized, movie period detail. Mildred Pierce isn’t the colorful, Sirk-inspired melodrama of Far From Heaven – but a drabber, dirtier, dustier movie, with more muted colors. In the early installments, Haynes seems to delight in the details of art direction, and the superb cinematography (by Ed Lachman, of course) – and it almost feels like not a lot is happening. The last two installments really have to jam in a lot of plot – I’m pretty sure about 80% of what happened in the 1945 film happens in this installment, so some details – like how Mildred’s business starts failing, and how some people who she helped start betraying her – really does seem to be tossed into the movie as an afterthought - to be fair to Haynes, business dealings may not be as exciting as the personal relationships in the film – but even they are rushed. What makes the film work in these moments are the performances more than anything – Winslet more the rest, but there is excellent supporting work by Guy Pearce as a man who doesn’t know how to do anything except be rich, Evan Rachel Wood, bringing Veda’s spoiled behavior to new heights, Melissa Leo as a sympathetic friend to Mildred, Mare Winningham as a not so sympathetic friend (although, you can hardly blame her for her actions), and Bryan F. O’Bryne, who takes a fairly dull character like Bert Pierce, and makes him tremendously likable.

 

So no, I don’t think Mildred Pierce is the simple perfection of some of Haynes’ other work. Yet, it’s still one of the best miniseries of recent years – and really should serve as an example to other filmmakers, who want to make something longer than a movie, without committing to a television series. Because Mildred Pierce is every bit a Todd Haynes film - and a damn fine one at that.