Review: Shame

Check out my review of Shame, which I believe to be an outright masterpiece, over at http://nextprojection.com/2011/10/23/review-shame-2011/

"Not that I loved Caesar less, but I loved Rome more."

There are two key moments in George Clooney's latest as a director that I think many either will not notice or will ignore in favor of a quick dismissal of a film they believe to be attempting to pull back the curtain on political corruption as naiveté and old hat. It's in these two moments that Clooney plays his hand, almost too subtly, and reveals what the film is really about. It's not attempting to be revelatory about anything. Rather, it uses the harsh truths about politics as a springboard to explore more a interesting subject matter: corrosion. It is also, for my money, one of the most refined pieces of filmmaking this year.

On its surface, Clooney's film uses corruption as a framework for the narrative. We all know that politics are dirty business. Or at least, we used to be ignorant of it, until the last 20 or so years. Based on the play Farragut North, which was loosely inspired by the brief presidential campaign of Howard Dean, the film follows a second in command campaign manager (Gosling) for an idealistic presidential candidate (Clooney) in the last days of the democratic primaries. Through a chain of events, he becomes more and more entrenched in the dirty dealings of politics as the election is on the line.

But again, this is merely the narrative framing device. What Clooney is really interested in exploring here is not corruption, but rather, corrosion. He presents us with a character study of how the harsh realities of politics don't match up with good intentioned idealism, and how it eats away at us, turning those who were once passionate, loyal, and optimistic into bitter, cynical people. Like I said, there are two key moments towards the end that really reveal this, but I don't want to spoil anything here. But the way the film handles this idea was particularly fascinating to me, and again, I'm afraid many will miss it and instead assume the film is trying to treat corruption as something new. Rather, that sense of being beaten down by the harsh realities of corruption, and essentially having your optimism beaten out of you, is a complex, fascinating theme that really struck a chord with me. When do we throw our hands up and admit we can't do it the clean way? When do we accept that one person may not be able to change the world, because we can't get everyone to simply agree on things that seem like common logic, but are contended on principle, rather than it just being the right thing to do? It's a complicated issue, and Clooney handles it with grace and nuance by channeling these external and internal conflicts within his lead character.

In more technical terms, every actor here is firing on all cylinders. Gosling (who gave my favorite performance of the year so far in Drive) embodies a young idealistic man turned cynical by the overwhelming pressure around him perfectly, showing how just beaten down he feels at all the right moments.

Philip Seymour Hoffman is doing his usual thing here, and that shouldn't be taken at all as a criticism. The actor is so consummately great at what he does that it's easy to take him for granted. But his final scene with Gosling is what really sold me on the effortlessness he injects in every great turn. He's one of the greats, no question about it. Clooney himself really makes the absolute best of every scene he's in, bringing in shades of his performance in Michael Clayton (my favorite of his to this day) and something else, something entirely new. There's a fire in his eyes, and nothing will put it out. Evan Rachel Wood is a pure spitfire here, and Marisa Tomei left me wanting more and more of her craven vampire of a journalist.

 I sincerely hope The Ides of March isn't quickly dismissed as old hat naiveté, but if it is, I'm happy to be in the minority here. For my money, this is one of the absolute best films of the year. While not topping Clooney's masterpiece, Good Night and Good Luck, the film is tight, crisp as cold winter air, and immaculately executed.

Fantastic Fest: Snowtown (A-)

Once in a while a film you never saw coming sneaks up on you and blows you away. For me at Fantastic Fest, the first film to do so is Justin Kurzel's Snowtown, and Australian thriller based on the infamous John Bunting murders. An IFC acquisition out of Cannes, the film is a deeply disturbing, realistic, harrowing  of the worst serial killer in Australian history, and how he brainwashed a young 16 year old man into helping him. It is also an incredible directorial debut for Kurzel, who paints a grisly portrait of misguided anger and hatred turned to psychotic bigotry.

After being sexually assaulted by his mother's boyfriend, and later on, raped by his older brother, Jamie is a seriously damaged young man. Enter John Bunting, who cleverly inserts himself into the house as a charismatic father figure who promises to take care of him after learning of what has transpired. But of course, Bunting is not the caring man he appears to be. Beneath the surface is a homophobe who begins to slowly come unraveled, feeding fear and paranoia into Jamie and the neighborhood, convincing them that all homosexuals are child molesters (during the 90s, this was still a widespread misconception, as illustrated by the Boy Scouts of America controversy about whether or not homosexual adult leaders or boys would be allowed to be members). What follows are a series of grisly murders, on and off screen, of people Bunting suspected of being homosexuals, and even those known full well not to be.

The film is a bit on the slow side, with a few long takes of silent reaction shots that probably could have been cut down a bit, or at least inserted a few more cross-cutting edits. But the film builds such incredible tension with stunning direction and acting that I wouldn't have it any other way. Kurzel knows how to use  sound to his advantage, and the film is more stylishly directed that one would think. But the film really belongs to the two lead actors, Daniel Henshall (as John Bunting), and Lucas Pittaway (as Jamie Vlassakis). Daniel Henshall must have won a few poker championships in his life, because his face is the most unflinching thing on earth. One minute he goes from charismatic father figure to a man who very well may rip your throat out with his bare hands. The psychotic killer underneath the surface is only revealed when he wants it to be. Clearly a sociopath, he shows no feeling towards any killing. It becomes routine to him, and one gets the sense he might be getting some sick satisfaction out of it, if anything. But as the murders continue, he keeps killing people who are only suspected homosexuals, and even some known not to be. It's a riveting, lived-in portrayal of a killer slowly becoming more and more paranoid, and thus, more dangerous and unhinged.

On the other side, you have Lucas Pittaway, whose performance as Jamie is just as riveting and electric, but more clenched and emotionally open. He is a damaged young man, forever changed by what was done to him and what he went on to do. You see the rage and hatred boiling under the surface in him, but only when dealing with the two men who wronged him. Otherwise, you get the sense he's being slowly brainwashed, but fights constantly to retain his humanity.

Haunting, bleak, grisly, and deeply disturbing, I count Snowtown as one of the very best films of the year.  Controlled, nuanced direction and incredible acting make this one of the most fully realized directorial debuts in recent memory, and an altogether great piece of filmmaking. It's a hard film to watch, but what is there is a rewarding, harrowing experience.

Drive: To live and die in L.A.

Drive isn't a high octane action thriller, as its marketing team would have you believe. But I'm not here to talk about what it isn't, but rather, what it really is; a stylish, tension filled character study. It's a love letter to the 80s and 90s neon-noir films of Michael Mann, William Friedkin, and films like Bullit. It's an art-house take on a B-movie genre. Above all else, Drive is a near masterpiece of filmmaking.

The phrase I keep coming back to is "a breath of fresh air". The plot itself, which is nothing new, is adapted from the 2005 novel of the same name, and follows a stunt driver/car mechanic who moonlights as a getaway driver for heists in Los Angeles. A loner, he's a a mix of The Man with No Name (he literally is never given a name in the film, just referred to as "kid" or "driver") and Steve McQueen, with all of the badass that comes with that. As he explains to each of his contracts with recited precision, he gives the people he drives a five minute window to get in, get out, and get in the car. One second more, and you're on your own. He doesn't sit in on the job, he doesn't carry a gun, he drives. Nothing less, nothing more. And he's the best at what he does. He lives alone, but his life begins to intersect with his neighbor and her son as she has car trouble & needs his assistance. His mentor introduces him to local mob boss, who is investing in him for a race, and things kick off from there.

What follows is nothing particularly new, but you've never seen it executed with such finesse, style, and elegance since the 80s and 90s heyday that director Nicolas Winding Refn is so clearly in love with. The soundtrack, filled with electronic songs and a throbbing synth score by Cliff Martinez, really drive that feeling home. The film even has hot pink opening titles and credits! Refn is partying like it's 1989 and he's not ashamed. Clearly inspired by the likes of Thief, Heat, Bullit, and To Live and Die in L.A., the Refn films L.A. with an almost fetishistic love for the city. No director has ever equaled Michael Mann in the capturing the city, but Refn certainly comes close.

One might make the mistake of expecting tons of heists, car chases, and burly brawls from the film. But this is a character piece, first and foremost. And it takes an actor on the caliber of Ryan Gosling to pull it off. Having made the film his pet project, Gosling made sure Refn would be brought on as director, and had extensive discussions with him about the character, making conscientious choices, like limiting his spoken dialogue. What emerges is one of Gosling's most mature, nuanced performances to date, and certainly his most badass role yet. It's not his all time greatest performance, but there's a level of subtlety and restraint here that is most impressive, especially when his cool demeanor gives way to intense, terrifying bursts of violence. It's easily the most layered and fascinating character to grace the screen so far this year. He's a hard-boiled anti-hero, and Gosling is the perfect actor to breathe new life into the archetype and make him a real human being, instead of the caricature that kind of role has become.

The magic doesn't stop there. Drive features probably the best ensemble cast of the year so far. No one misses a beat, from Carey Mulligan's vulnerable Irene, to Byran Cranston's craggy old garage owner, to Ron Perlman's slimy gangster, to Oscar Isaac's convict looking for a second chance. Even Christina Hendricks makes use of her limited screentime. In a bit of meta casting, Refn and Cranston seem to be portraying his character as a future vision of his character in Breaking Bad, perhaps after having lost everything and being forced to start over from scratch as a car mechanic. But it's Albert Brooks who completely steals the show as mob boss Bernie Rose.


Playing completely against type in a performance that should net the veteran actor and Oscar nomination for Supporting Actor (think William Hurt in A History of Violence, but more screentime), Brooks injects a smarmy sense of "Great, ANOTHER mess I have to clean up." into the role, and is a riot throughout. If there were ever a foil for Gosling's cool, hard boiled anti-hero, Brooks plays it deliciously as he constantly makes wisecracks and snarky remarks.

The true triumph of the film, however, is that as perfect the cast is, no one is ever trying to make the film about them. This is a brilliant directorial achievement, and Refn has certainly won a skeptic like me over. Having never seen his Pusher Trilogy, I had to go by Bronson (which I'm a big fan of) and Valhalla Rising (not so much) as a frame of reference. But what Refn does here is in a class of its own. The way he films the proceedings with long takes, never once giving in to the temptation of modern MTV Michael Bay editing with its 8 million cuts, is nothing short of genius. Especially when the audience is treated to short, visceral, intense bursts of disturbing violence. In a perfectly blocked and executed sequence, soon to be known as "the elevator scene", Refn shows the driver's two worlds smashing together like two cars colliding as he gruesomely dispatches a hired gun, and how Irene is both horrified and aroused while witnessing it.

I mentioned in the opening of my review that Drive felt like a breath of fresh air, and I stand by that. That's because the film feels so adult, so mature, so subversive. This is a film for grown-ups, not for teens, not for kids, but adults. And it's so refreshing to see a film that not only refuses to pander to the audience, but constantly subverts their expectations. The plot itself may appear to be nothing new at first, but you've never seen it done like this. A staggering achievement on all fronts, Drive is a brilliantly directed and acted film. See it if you like the films it is influenced by. See it if you like hard-boiled neo-noir. See if you like great films.