Up in the Air Directed by Jason Reitman  Written by Jason Reitman; Sheldon Turner  Starring George Clooney; Vera Famiga; Anna Kendrick; Jason Bateman; Danny McBride; Melanie Lynskey; Amy Morton; Sam Elliott; JK Simmons; Zach Galifinakis

As Hollywood continues to churn out its ceaseless parade of banal, vapid pablum there is, seemingly, a steadily increasing dearth of films made for adults with a functioning brain. This is not to contend that Up in the Air is a particularly trenchant, innovative, or intellectually challenging experience, but compared to what passes for mainstream, mass marketed quality nowadays, this one is something of an anomaly. It’s an example of what one might imagine modern Hollywood films could be - big stories with movie stars to appeal to wider audiences, but containing enough discernible intelligence and humanity to make the characters and events recognizable as something vaguely real-life-like.

Following Juno and Thank You For Smoking, Jason Reitman, Up in the Air’s talented 32 year old director,  has now made three engaging films in a row (his first three, by the way) - something that cannot be said for many directors working within the system. The Los Angeles native, and offspring of long time comedy director/producer Ivan Reitman (who also produces here), is quickly establishing himself as a unique voice with an eye for quality material.

George Clooney plays Clooney here - officially Ryan Bingham, a corporate axe man working for a Nebraska based company who finds himself facing professional extinction (or at least reorganization). As one of our most well-known bachelors, Clooney might be channeling aspects of his own personal life, inhabiting a character who defiantly rails again the merits of permanent personal attachment. Ryan spends most of his year on the road, commuting state to state by way of a series of rental cars, low grade luxury hotels, airports, lounges and bars, and planes; taking pleasure in the benefits his frequent flyer business status affords him.  On the side, he accepts paid motivational speaking gigs, preaching the beauty of a life unencumbered  to corporate conference audiences.

Ryan’s age is never specified, though (given Clooney’s real life numbers) we would have to assume that he is at least 45, making him a middle-aged man on the downslope.  Though evidently oblivious to the emptiness and shallowness that define his personal life (he appears virtually unfazed when an ongoing sexual relationship with his younger, attractive next door neighboor ends), as well as the shaky morality of what he does for a living, it seems inevitable that at some point in the future he will be in for a realization that he is, in fact, alone.  This is the crux of the film, so of course we are privy to the set of circumstances that will lead him to confront his existence.

Enter into the mix four women who will have a profound (though not individually predictable) impact on the way Ryan views his lifestyle and future. Vera Famiga is Alex, a slightly younger version of Ryan himself, a well coiffed businesswoman equally game for a romantic relationship devoid of obligations, commitment, or ties. Anna Kendrick plays Natalie, an Ivy educated, uptight whiz kid neophyte out to change the way the company does business. Finally, Melanie Lynskey and Amy Morton are Ryan’s neglected younger sisters, people he has all but cut out of his solitary life. Traveling back to Wisconsin for one of their weddings, however, he is forced to again deal with them, as well as his self-imposed exile from his home and extended family.

Up in the Air is based on the 2001 novel (Reitman and Sheldon Turner wrote the script) by Walter Kirn, who previously penned Thumbsucker (1999), which too was subsequently made into a quality film. Shot by Eric Steelberg (Juno; 500 Days of Summer), the visuals are excellent, and there is (like in Juno) a creative opening credit sequence. There are also several effective segments featuring real life fired workers from Detroit and St. Louis who were told they were being interviewed for a documentary, a facet that imbues the film with a resonance it might have otherwise lacked. These portions were added in response to the recent economic downturn, a decision that ties the film to the many Americans who have recently faced layoffs and firings themselves.   

Danny McBride has an amusing turn as Ryan’s soon to be brother in law. Cameos by JK Simmons; Sam Elliott; and Zack Galifanakis add flavor. Downsizing and the ongoing technologization of the workplace are relevant and timely themes, and there are ideas about family/commitment/love as it relates to personal freedom and professional success. The theme of human connectivity runs throughout the film as well, as Ryan begins confronting his life as others see it, with the cold anonymity of traveling on the road juxtaposed with the warmth of Ryan’s hometown roots. A quality, well paced story with a bevy of humor, snappy dialogue, and engaging performances from an impressive cast.

Invictus (USA) Directed by Clint Eastwood  Written by Anthony Peckham  Starring Morgan Freeman; Matt Damon; Tony Kgorogue; Marguerite Wheatly; Patrick Mofoheng; Patrick Lyster; Julian Lewis Jones; Leliti Khumalo

The prolific Clint Eastwood gives us this adaptation (by screenwriter Anthony Peckham) of the book Playing the Enemy by John Carlin. The story focuses on the newly elected South African President Nelson Mandela (Morgan Freeman) and his attempts to rally the country around the national rugby team, The Springboks, a squad that served as a longstanding symbol of white separatism, and allegiance to a government that treated blacks as something less than human.  

This is not the Mandela bio-pic one might have expected. The sweeping scope fits director Eastwood’s strengths, but Mandela’s entire personal and professional past, incarceration, eventual release and political ascension, world wide human rights activism, and national and international political life as president are not examined in any detail. Instead, the film focuses on a specific place in time, concentrating on one aspect of Mandela’s early leadership. This approach allows Eastwood to dodge the kind of episodic torpor that often afflicts films about the lives of famous people, but, perhaps naturally, much is lost in the tradeoff.  

Mandela, an attorney who spent twenty seven years in prison due to Apartheid, was elected in 1994 at age seventy five, largely by blacks who were newly allowed to vote. Facing monumental challenges in uniting a violently divided country, he chose to retain the old national anthem, as well as the rugby team (both important symbols of the old South Africa), but attempted to co-opt both by altering what they stood for. The struggling team became a vehicle toward which he could channel common and collective energy, and eventually the team would, improbably, meet the heavily favored juggernaut All Blacks from New Zealand in the World Cup final.

Invictus is Latin for unconquered, a term taken from a William Ernest Henley poem that inspired Mandela while locked up on Robben Island (where ironically he also routed against the Springboks). A bit of a paint by numbers affair, at two hours and fourteen minutes the film also feels a bit long. Freeman looks the part, and though the accent is far from pristine he has the necessary gravitas to play a man known and revered the world over, something that couldn’t be said for many actors, famous or not. While the lack of consistent accent is a tad distracting, and his performance strays far from impression, he seems to capture the spirit of the man, and this hard to define aspect of his portrayal redeems the representation, making it an ultimately successful one.   

Though significantly physically smaller than the real life man, Matt Damon is nonetheless fine as team captain Francois Pienaar. Damon clearly bulked/toned up for the role, and seems believable in the hard hitting sports action sequences, though American audiences may be kinder in their assessment in this area than those located in places where the sport is a national obsession. The film attempts to bridge this gap for non-fans by having the players explain the rules to a group of children at one point, although it probably doesn’t matter. Like The Longest Yard , Hoosiers , Victory, and others of the type, Invictus rests in our buying in just enough to root for the underdog team as we’re supposed to, and in this regard the rules and regulations are probablysomewhat irrelevant.    

Too many platitudes and grand pronouncements are woven into the dialogue, making the film preachy and didactic in places, something that distances an audience from buying the charcters as actual people as opposed to stock types. Also, the pervading atmosphere feels more than a bit sanitized, with nary a racial epithat uttered - perhaps all but impossible in a country of extreme systemic racial intolerance, especially during this tumultuous period when tensions were at a fevered pitch.  Further, though the main supporting players are excellent, there are some clunky moments from a few of the bit actors, a fact that rehearsals, more takes, and/or directorial massaging (practices abhored by director Eastwood) might have helped to solve.  These combined factors weaken a film with excellent visuals, solid sports action, and an emotion inducing ending.

Invictus is not, by any means, a great film, and by nature of its structure it gives short shrift to one of the most heroic figures in modern times. As a sports film, however, it does its job.

Paper Heart (USA) Directed by Nicholas Jasenovic  Starring Charlene Yi; Michael Cera; Jake Johnson

Paper Heart plays loose and fancy free with fact and fiction in its quasi-documentary approach. The idea is that actor/musician Yi (the stoned girl from Knocked Up) has never been in love and wonders if she even has the capacity for it. She travels through various parts the country (including Texas; Oklahoma; Nevada; and Tennesse) talking to scientists, professors, wedding chaplains, friends, relatives, and strangers alike about the science, philosophy, and nature of romantic love. Although there are some sweet moments with Yi and actor Michael Cera there are just as many that feel contrived and false. There has been some degree of speculation as to whether the relationship between the two is/was real or not, but there is no doubt that their scenes together (regardless of their actual/real life relationship) are being acted. Further, an actor, Jake Johnson, is playing the actual director Nicholas Jasenovic, the only other major character in the film. While the meta aspect is interesting and holds a lot of potential the film doesn’t provide much in the way of revelation about it leads, or, for that matter, the larger question at hand, as the interview subjects are only mildly interesting. This one’s (paper) heart is in the right place, but is indeed so lightweight that it seems as if it will blow away at any moment. Yi, who has a rather strange, monotone affect, is clearly a guarded person, but delving deeper into her past and her reasons for being so closed off in the first place would have likely made for more compelling viewing. It’s problematic when an individual attempts to make a personal documentary without truly putting themselves out there, which is precisely where the invented (or at least acted) relationship comes in. Unfortunately, this very artifice impedes what might have been a truly interesting and poignant exploration of a real young woman looking at her own fears and doubts about love, and her own future.

Somers Town (BRIT) Directed by Shane Meadows Written by Paul Fraser Starring Thomas Turgoose; Piotr Jagiello; Irenevsk Czop; Elisa Lasowski; Perry Benson

At barely 70 minutes, Shane Meadows’ latest skirts the parameters of what is usually considered a feature length film. The story focuses on troubled fourteen year old Tomo (Thomas Turgoose; star of Meadows’ This is England), who travels by train from his home in The Midlands to Somers Town, a section of London near Kings Cross and St. Pacras Station. Meadows is a filmmaker who likes to tell stories about the area and milieu with which he is familiar (The Midlands) so shifting locations is as big for him as it was for The Dardenne brothers recent locale change in Lorna’s Silence.  Though we don’t get a full explanation of his back story, Tomo (Turgoose’s real life nickname, by the way) is either abandoned or a runaway, but whatever the case he quickly finds himself homeless, penniless, and living on the mean streets of his newly adopted home. He befriends Marek (Piotr Jagiello), an introverted Polish teen who’s into photography and has only recently moved to the area with his father, hard-drinking construction worker Marusz (Irenevsk Czop). The two mismatched boys spend time with one another, fantasizing about older local French waitress Maria (Elisa Lasowski) and working for lawn chair renter/council estate neighbor Graham (Perry Benson). Filmed almost entirely in black and white, Somers Town was (oddly) conceived and financed by Eurostar and was originally turned down by Meadows because he worried there was a corporate agenda lurking behind the funding, though he suggested frequent collaborator (and childhood neighbor) Paul Fraser as writer. Fraser wound up writing the script, and then Eurostar came back to Meadows, who then became interested. Though the original idea was for a feature, the project was actually written, developed, and budgeted as a short right up until the actual start of principal photography, but Meadows shot long days and extended takes, somehow turning it into a feature (albeit a short one) as he went. Music by Gavin Clark (whom Meadows also made a doc about) and Ted Barnes is moody and fitting, although the songs are very similar to one another in sound and were probably used in a few more places than were necessary, including several montages that feel slightly out of place given the overall style of the film. It must be said that, perhaps owing to the short script and lack of shooting days, the story itself feels a little underdeveloped - more about Maria and both of the boys backgrounds would have been nice. Nonetheless, an interesting slice of life from a director who continues to produce quality work.

Bruno (USA) Directed by Larry Charles  Starring Sasha Baron Cohen

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly why Sasha Baron Cohen’s latest is less effective then his previous effort. Perhaps the schtick is growing wearisome? Perhaps the wide appeal of Borat raised expectations too high? Even long time fans of Cohen’s work (on British TV and HBO) might be looking for him to take his act to another level. Larry Charles (Curb Your Enthusiasm) again directs, and the formula is very similar to Borat. Cohen plays a foreign character who comes to the US, behaving in an outrageous manner, which shocks those unsuspecting “real life” American participants and onlookers. There are laughs to be had here - assuming one isn’t easily offended by male nudity and simulated gay sex (and the bevy of jokes having to do with the same). While there is a legitimate inherent satirical statement about our intolerance as human beings (and as a nation), the delivery is less subtle. Not that Borat didn’t have its share of in your face sex and scatalogical bits, but Cohen and Charles are relying even less on character based humor here and more on in your face gay sex antics to elicit laughs. It feels a bit forced in places, though one has to give the comedien some kudos for sheer, utter audacity. Envelope pushing comics/performance artists (ala Andy Kaufman) always eventually confront issues having to with topping themselves, and it will be interesting to see what Cohen comes up with in an attempt to veer in a slightly different direction as clearly this process has run out of a bit of steam. There is no doubt that his ability to fully commit by immersing himself into these characters, and then tossing them into the world, marks him as possessing a singular talent. What he does with that going forward in terms of ongoing comedic innovation is another matter.

Medicine for Melancholy (USA) Directed Barry Jenkins  Written by Barry Jenkins  Starring Wyatt Cecec; Tracey Heggins

Barry Jenkins’ debut film is being classified as an addition to the Mumblecore movement. The difference here is that the director and his two lead actors are African American, and while the film is focused on their budding relationship, it also examines wider questions of race, identity, class, urban development, and gentrification. Wyatt Cenac is Micah, and Tracey Heggins, Jo, two young San Francisco residents who awake next to one another in the morning in a strange bed, having drunkenly hooked up at a party. They are embarrassed and nearly silent at first, but as the next twenty four hours unfold we learn more about each of their individual lives. The film was shot on HD with film lenses and the color in most places was de-saturated to the point of being closer to black and white. It’s essentially a two hander with the camera rarely moving away from the appealing leads. There are a few rough moments, including a short didactic scene taking place at a community meeting that should have been eliminated in the editing room, and the leads too are occasionally given extended speeches as Jenkins is clearly committed to getting his ideas across. Still, there is an emotional truth achieved here that most films can only dream of. Those demanding Hollywood slickness might be turned off, but this is a sincere effort to create art. Visually, there is a verite feel as the camera follows the action, mirroring the free flowing, largely plotless story. Very similar to the handheld style of Aaron Katz’s Quiet City, another low tech indie about a new couple getting to know another over the course of a single day. The film might, at times, be halting and awkward, but only in the way that life itself often is

Party Down (Starz) Starring Adam Scott; Ryan Hansen; Lizzy Caplan; Ken Marino; Martin Starr; Jane Lynch; Jennifer Coolidge; Ken Jeong

Now available on DVD, season 1 of Party Down, a Starz original comedy series from Veronica Mars creator Rob Thomas and several other Mars writer/producers (the team also includes Fred Savage and Paul Rudd). The show is based on a group of aspiring Hollywood types who work for the Party Down catering company and shares tonal similarities with programs like The Office and Freaks and Geeks (on which several Party cast members appeared). Though clunky in places from a production standpoint, Party Down is well cast, written, and acted. Adam Scott stars as Henry, who, within the reality og the show,  is well known for appearing in a series of beer commercials in which he uttered a famous catch phrase. Having recently decided to quit acting, he is depressed and disaffected, trying to quell his pain with booze, prescription meds, and cigarettes. Hired as a bartender by old friend Ron (Ken Marino), the ineffectual manager of the operation, he takes an instant liking to co-worker Casey (Lizzy Caplan), a struggling comedien. The other staffers include nerdy would-be screenwriter Roman (Martin Starr); vacuous actor Kyle (Ryan Hansen); and rommates Constance (Jane Lynch) and Bobbie (Jennifer Coolidge), two washed up. middle-aged actresses who can’t let go. Ken Jeong plays owner Alan Duk. Jeong; Lynch; Coolidge; and Starr are well-known to TV and film comedy fans. Fans of Veronica Mars too will recognize many of these actors from the show, and Kristen Bell even shows up in one episode, playing a Nazi-like boss of a rival company. The show is not laugh out loud funny, and there is nothing groundbreaking here, but this is easily as good or better than most of the so-called comedies on network TV, and in the same ballpark as some of the better offerings on Showtime and HBO.

The Road (USA) Directed by John Hillcoat  Written by Joe Penhall  Starring Viggo Mortensen; Charlize Theron; Kody Smit-McPhee; Robert Duvall; Guy Pearce; Molly Parker; Michael K. Williams; Garret Dillahunt

Much speculation surrounded the release of Australian director John Hillcoat’s The Road, including reports that last years’ cut of the film had to be re-edited to counteract the bleakness quotient as execs feared audiences would be turned off by a view of a post-apocalyptic America virtually devoid of recognizable humanity. As is, the film remains fairly dire, filled with monochromatic images of a gray, sparsely populated, and largely plant and animal-less landscape as barren as the stomachs and souls of those still inhabiting the earth.

Based on the 2006 award winning novel by Cormac McCarthy (No Country For Old Men; Blood Meridian), Hillcoat and screenwriter (British playwrite) Joe Penhall don’t stray far from the source. Though there are invented details added to the mix, the film respects the book’s minimalistic base and narrow scope and includes most of the major plot points. And while it might be said that Hillcoat, directing his fourth feature, never manages to cinematically transcend the book in the way one imagines most successful literary adaptations ultimately accomplishing, there is also something to be said for the concept of fidelity, especially when it comes to re-imagining well-loved/respected work, and if nothing else The Road artfully manages not to besmirch McCarthy’s violent, spare telling. 

Whether Hillcoat captures the spirit of the novel is open to debate, but he does well evoking a washed out, burned out, and de-populated America still experiencing traumatic earthquakes and fires years after the undefined and unexplained cataclysmic event. For those who haven’t experienced the novel, the film is largely a two hander with the ever youthful middle-aged Viggo Mortensen as The Man and young Kodi Smit-McPhee as The Boy. The story is a simple one - the father and son making their way on foot to the warmer coast climate where they hope to connect with other “good people” to start a better life.

Thankfully, Mortensen and newcomer Smith are both excellent and believable together, which is a good thing because the film all but entirely rests on their performances. Charlize Theron has a smaller role as mother and wife, seen in a series of flashbacks, including several color splashed ones highlighting the actresses still stunning beauty, as The Man repeatedly dreams of images and moments of a life that was. Hillcoat also effectively employs name actors like Guy Pearce (fellow Aussie and lead in his previous film, The Proposition); Molly Parker; Michael K Williams (Omar from The Wire); and Robert Duvall in supporting roles that essentially amount to cameos.

To Hillcoat’s and Penhall’s credit, they obviously decided against creating additional facts that might’ve been woven into the dialogue or voiceover (Mortensen) in order to better explain the current world situation, illuminate the specific cause and nature of the catastrophic event, or detail what exactly The Man hopes to find as he and the boy move south toward the ocean. The build is slow and meandering and even the more sensational of the sections have a muted quality to them that do not work either individually or joined together in the way that traditional thrillers, horror, or action flicks usually do. Rather, they serve merely as divergences along a narrative path that trudges forward in the same manner that The Man and The Boy do as they struggle mightily to haul their meager posessions in an old shopping cart, traversing woods, mud, and hills toward a fuzzy future neither can predict.

One of the major themes of the book and the film is the idea of forging ahead despite the negative that so often surrounds us. The concept of suicide as an opt out of the pain, and specifically as a final expedient solution for the boy if the father is killed, is one that is present throughout. Their world is filled with darkness, hunger, and predatory scavengers. The boy stands as a beacon of innocence in a dark and dismal universe, as well as being The Man’s one reason to live. For the boy, his “Papa” is the prism through which he sees the world, his protector and sole source of information about the present and the past. Always looming, however, is the threat of the many rapists, thieves, murderers, and cannibals who roam the terrain in an attempt to prey on whomever and whatever comes in their wake. In an existence fraught with a constant series of very real threats, far removed from any and all modern convenience or comfort, pleasure must be drawn from the simple - finding a rare can of Coke, playing with a small toy, the protection of some new found temporary shelter. 

The subject matter, of course, is far from novel, and the film calls to mind others of the type - Time of the Wolf; Mad Max; Waterworld; Stalker; The Stand; Le Dernier Combat; Boy and His Dog; The Quiet Earth - in its painting of a scorched post-apocalyptic world, but the book and films restraint in refusing to overtly tackle broader political or moral questions means that with the exception of several platitude infused moments we as audience avoid the kind of grand pronouncements usually afflicting films of the type. And while several scenes have the kind of scary, frenzied quality of some recent well-known zombie films, the narrative remains in the realm of the real with only the boy’s recitation of his father’s lessons as screed (based on his age, lack of education/ contact with others, and having never experienced the old world) smacking of the mythologization so prevalent in apocalyptic and dystopic fiction.

While there is a definite flatness here, some of that might be understandably attributable to the depression and disaffectedness of the beaten down, unwashed, and ill-fed characters, as well as the structure of the very film itself, containing as it does a plot constituted mostly of scenes with The Man and The Boy withstanding multiple life and death challenges as they attempt to survive their journey. The accumlated effect of their harrowing experience on an audience is equivalent to that of a boxer taking one too many jabs in the face, although it should be stressed that there is genuine and deeply felt emotion in the tender father/son connection, the one overriding tactile element of warmth in a desolate, depraved environment populated by the desperate and the deprived - individuals barely clinging to the memory of what made them human in the first place

Not that there is necessarily anyone out there listening, but I would like to apologize for my recent absense from posting on this blog. Life sometimes intervenes. I will begin posting again, however, in an attempt to share my thoughts on some of the wonderful (and not so wonderful) films I have seen in recent months.

Happy Thanksgiving to all

The Cinema Guy

Goodbye Solo (USA) Directed by Ramin Bahrani Written by Ramin Bahrani Starring Soulymane Sy Savane; Red West; Carmen Leyva; Diana Franco Galinda

Ramin Bahrani, an American of Iranian ethnicity, has produced another quality offering of exquisite minimalism. His two previous films, Man Push Cart & Chop Shop were both low budgeters set in NYC. Bahrani locates Goodbye Solo in his hometown of Winston Salem NC. While not exactly a hot bed of film activity, the area has produced a few other filmmakers of recent note like Jody Hill and David Gordon Green. Bahrani is a purist, concerned with telling straightforward, deceptively simple tales about poor people struggling to survive. His realist work mirrors that of The Dardennes, Ken Loach, and relative newcomers like fellow Americans Kelly Reichardt and the team of Anna Bolden and Ryan Fleck. Solo (Soulymane Sy Savane) is a Senegalsese cab driver with dreams of becoming a flight attendant. Despite the modest trappings of his life situation, he’s seemingly a pretty happy person (reminiscent of the character Poppy in Happy-Go-Lucky), prone to smiling, optimism, and calling everyone “big man”. Still, his relationship with his strongly opinionated pregnant Mexican wife Quiera (Carmen Leyva) is in trouble, despite his affection for her precocious nine year old daughter Alex (Diana Franco Galindo). Quiera can’t understand his desire to be anything other than a cab driver, and presses him to keep driving and bringing in the money, while Solo seems unable to fully explain to her his dissatisfaction and need for change. Bahrani wastes no time as in the first scene in the film we meet William (Red West), a red faced, ornery oldster who offers to pay Solo $1,000 to drive him to Blowing Rock. Solo is immediately suspicious that William is contemplating suicide, and over the course of the next few weeks attempts to insinuate himself into William’s life, pressing him for details and trying to navigate his way past the man’s gruff, even hostile exterior. As usual, Bahrani casts mostly non-pros, including several actual cab drivers operating out of the working stand seen in the film. Seventy two year old West, calling to mind the late actor Richard Farnsworth, was a former running partner of Elvis’. Though West has appeared in smaller roles over the years, this is his first star turn. Despite a few awkward moments, Bahrani squeezes a lot out of his cast, particularly from the deeply expressive, bloodshot eyes of newcomer Savane. A thoughtful, well measured work from one of the best new faces in cinema.