The Counselor

I've lived a pretty easy life.  I'm white, American, Protestant, straight, and upper-middle class. I have a car, insurance, and a comfortable bed to sleep in.   I have never wondered where my next meal would come from, and I have had to fight little to get to where I am today.  In my day-to-day life, it is easy to forget that most people are not as fortunate as I am.  It is easy to forget that my food is cooked by immigrants who must work three jobs to support their families.  My clothes are made by bruised children in dingy sweatshops.  As Leonard Cohen sings, old black Joe is indeed still picking cotton for my ribbons and bows.

It is refreshing, then, to be reminded of my place in the world; to be reminded that my success and comfort come at the price of others' failure and pain.  Ridley Scott's The Counselor is such a reminder.  Though the film deals with drug runners, cartels, and morally ambiguous lawyers, the themes feel relevant to daily American life.  The story is brutal and otherworldly, but it deals with familiar characters who believe, as does Kathy Lee Gifford, that plausible deniability will fool Saint Peter.  The film begs the question, "Can one live in a world without being a part of it?"  Can we blindly benefit from suffering without becoming complicit?

Michael Fassbender's character, known only as "The Counselor," seems nice enough at first.  He has a beautiful fiancé, played by Penelope Cruz.  Yowza.  If she were my fiancé, I would never leave the house... Anyway, he has a sweet setup: girl, job, and good looks.  But, like all of us, he wants more.  He puts his life savings into a drug smuggling venture, hoping for a large return.  Of course, his plans go awry, and he finds himself in over his head.  He learns that a man is what a man does.  He cannot benefit from the drug world without supporting murder and torture.  Like so many classic characters in literature, he has blood on his hands, and that damned spot doesn't wash out so easily.

And this film does feel quite, uh, literary.  It is not surprising that the screenplay was written by one of our greatest living authors, Cormac McCarthy.  While this is his first screenplay, it seems to be just another part of his bibliography.  Like No Country for Old Men, it follows a character as greed destroys his life.  Like The Road, it looks at the fragility of our human existence.  Like Blood Meridian, it explores the blood and darkness that this country was founded on, the darkness that still exists today.

Being a McCarthy fan, I enjoyed the film immensely.  The dialogue is strange, beautiful, and funny.  The characters are unique, yet identifiable.  The plot is twisty, violent, and filled with coincidence.  However, many film viewers will find this film dense, pretentious, and confusing.  And they have every right to say that.  At many points, the dialogue moves pasty preachy and right onto the soap box.  Most every character is a poet philosopher, ruminating on humanity, nature, and beauty.  So much of this pontificating is alienating and does not lead to the most immersive of film experiences.  Still, Cormac McCarthy is so damn talented that I love to hear his prose read by some of Hollywood's best actors.

Michael Fassbender, Brad Pitt, Penelope Cruz, Javier Bardem, Bruno Ganz, Rueben Blades...I could fill the rest of this review just by naming the film's stellar cast.  It seems that every scene features some other amazing actor, performing at the top of their game.  Man, does Brad Pitt keep getting better or is it just me?  In The Counselor he channels the body language of Dennis Hopper in Blue Velvet.  He projects the cool danger of Steve McQueen.  Damn, he's good. In any other film, he would have acted circles around his costar.  However, he is paired with Michael Fassbender, one of the best in the business.  This guy can turn on emotion with the flip of a switch.  One moment, he is literally charming the pants off a girl; the next, he is bawling his eyes out.  Add in an insane and complex performance by Javier Bardem, and that is one heck of a leading cast.

It doesn't hurt that these actors are being directed by Ridley Scott.  He has had a rough couple of decades with crap films like Kingdom of Heaven and Prometheus bearing his signature.  Now, it appears the Ridley Scott of Alien, Blade Runner, and Thelma & Louise has returned.  Few can create atmosphere like Scott.  His directing of actors makes this feel like a Mamet play mixed with a Paul Schrader film.  Imagine Glengarry Glen Ross meets American Gigolo.  Woah, that's a good idea for a movie...Never mind.  There is a bizarre cadence to the scenes that creates a sense of unrest and tension.  His composition is clean, crisp, and filled with detail.  I can think of at least five frames of the film I would like to print out and hang on my wall.  One features Michael Fassbender, in close-up, standing in front of a Triumph motorcycle.  The scene's conversation deals with modern masculinity, and this image is both literal and cinematic.  Beautiful stuff.

Again, some may find this film to be a bit too "literal" and preachy.  However, these are things that need to be said.  The Counselor is jumbled and sometimes feels more like a book than a film, but it is easily one of the best pieces of fiction I have read or seen this year.  This is an important story that challenges our American blind comfort.  It is sad that, after leaving the theater, I began to forget where my clothes were made and who cooked my food.  Perhaps I need to be reminded again.  I hope there are more films like The Counselor that can do so.

Escape Plan

I recently turned 30.  Most of you already know this.  On the one hand, it's pretty nice.  I look 25, all my parts work, and my years have gifted me with at least a little bit of class.  Well, maybe not.  On the other hand, I feel a bit behind.  I'm not married, I don't have kids, and my career is still in, uh....flux.  Upon hearing my age, a 19-year-old girl I work with said, "So, I guess you don't want to get married or have kids then?"  Wait, no one told me I had to have this figured out by now!  Is it too late?  How can I be too old if Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone, both almost 70, are still kicking ass and taking names?

After a few years out of the limelight, the aging stars have returned in a series of "Geriatric Action" films.  Starting with The Expendables, our Reagan-era heroes have made a big return to the silver screen.  With films like Bullet to the Head and The Last Stand, Stallone and Schwarzenegger have shown that they're not ready for orthopedic shoes just yet.  They still know how to tote ridiculously sized weaponry and spout clichéd one-liners.  The two actors are clearly in this for the paycheck, but why do we flock to the theater to see the aging heroes?  Maybe it's because, to feel immortal, we need our action stars to be immortal too.  Think about how long John Wayne wore his gun belt.  The guy needed an hour to go the bathroom, but he could still ride a horse.  If our heroes get old, we get old.  However, if they keep saving the day, we can all take one more step away from our own mortality.

With their new film Escape Plan, it is clear that Schwarzenegger and Stallone may need to trade in their M-60s for Metamucil tablets.  Like most of the other Geriatric Action films, Escape Plan is a rehash of old genre tropes.  The plot is a mix of Stuart Gordon's Fortress and John Flynn's Lock-Up.  Stallone starred in the latter.  Did he forget that he already made this movie once?  You know old age...The cinematography is bland and reflects the worst of digital age filmmaking; no contrast, bland color, etc.  Mikael Hafstrom's directing is serviceable, but unimpressive.  As in their other recent films, the dialogue and plotting is all very self-conscious.  The actors and filmmakers are seemingly aware of just how absurd the whole premise is.  It's as if they can't believe they're still being paid and want to get as much fun in before it all ends.

And, you know what, it is fun.  I can't help getting caught up in escape movies.  We watch as Stallone sizes up every detail in the high-tech prison.  He memorizes the layout of the prison, the guard's movements, and the surveillance systems.  In an escape film, nothing is insignificant.  Even in a weak film like Escape Plan, you watch your characters like you watch a magician.  How are they going to crack the code?  How are they going to outsmart the system?  Most of us pay little attention to our surroundings because our lives are made of predictable routine.  It's a nice fantasy where our environment is stimulating again.  For the escape artist, every sound, smell, and sight could be useful in an intricately planned exodus.

I will also say that I would much rather watch Stallone escape than Tim Robbins.  Unlike The Shawshank Redemption, Escape Plan did not subject me to the expositional ramblings of Morgan Freeman.  I was not bombarded by contrived symbolism and cloying sentimentality.  While the filmmaking in Escape Plan is simple, it is not ostentatious and pretentious, as is Frank Darabont's direction...I love ripping on The Shawkshank Redemption.  When I tell people of my great disdain for the film, they look at me like I just strangled a kitten.  Well, I would never hurt an animal, but I'll tell you that Escape Plan is better than that Redeeming pile of...sorry.

Escape Plan is simple and generic, but it's two hours with some of our oldest friends.  Even though Stallone and Schwarzenegger look like they're wearing old man pants and their hairplugs are a bit too obvious, it's nice to see them up and kicking.  If they can still hang from helicopters and crack skulls, maybe I have more time to get my life in order.  Don't retire yet, guys;  I have some stuff to figure out.  Thanks.

Captain Phillips

When I was home sick as a young man, I had a very strict daily regimen.  A warm bowl of chicken soup, a cold glass of 7-Up, and, of course, my old VHS copy of The 'Burbs.  Nothing made me feel better than spending the day with my friends at HInkley Hills.  There was crazy Bruce Dern, chubby Rick Ducommen, and flabbergasted Tom Hanks.  I suppose the first two are funniest in the film, but it's really Tom Hanks who holds it all together.  Throughout his career, Tom Hanks has held many films together, with his everyman charm and pleasant demeanor.  Like Jimmy Stewart, he's just a guy you want to spend time with.  In a comedy like The 'Burbs, he's just fun to watch.  In a dark and intense film like Captain Phillips, Hanks is invaluable as a moral compass and narrative focal point.

Director Paul Greengrass made a wise casting choice with Hanks.  In his previous docu-dramas, Bloody Sunday and United 93, Greengrass relied on relative no-namers to fill his cast.  While the majority of the Captain Phillips cast is populated with new faces and less-than-famous Hollywood stock, the director clearly understood that an actor with star power was necessary for his lead.  And Hanks delivers.  He is kind, but tough with his crew.  He is intense and brave when facing the modern day pirates.  And, finally, he is vulnerable and overwhelmed when saved by the US Navy.  Sorry to tell the ending, but read the papers.  This is a true story.

Though based on a true story, the film gives us a perspective not featured in many US newspapers.  As Phillips begins his long journey aboard his fully loaded cargo ship, we also see the beginning of the pirates' journey.  Greengrass shows the dingy shack that lead pirate, Muse (Barkhad Abdi), calls home.  The floors are mere dirt, and Muse's bed is nothing but a tarp. As he exits his home, we see that he lives in a small village under the control of a dangerous warlord.  We see how few options there were for the young men in this small fishing village.  When Phillips asks Muse why he didn't choose a different life, Muse replies, "Maybe in America."  As he did in United 93, Greengrass gives both sides of the story.  He does not paint the pirates as heroes, but he does depict them as poor men caught in global tradewinds.  It feels as though the Captain from prosperous America was destined to meet and confront the Captain from destitute Somalia.

Watching the trailers, I feared that this would be a gung-ho America tale.  However, this is no Michael Bay film.  It is more akin to Zero Dark Thirty, where neither the heroes or villains are completely innocent or guilty.  As does Zero Darky Thirty, the film concludes with the intervention of badass American soldiers.  However, they don't come across as cool or heroic, just cold and calculating.  Throughout the film, Greengrass juxtaposes the rollercoaster emotions on the ship with the clinical procedurality of the American military.  As Phillips is crying and begging for his family, the Navy Seals are a bunch of silent Joe Cools.  When the pirates make their outrageous demands, the military negotiator responds with by-the-book misleading conversation.  Greengrass presents a Somalian perspective on the American military, and they are much more terrifying than four desperate men in a rusty boat.

Greengrass may be a master at fairhanded storytelling, but his true genius lies in film aesthetics.  For smart, exciting global thrillers, there is really no one better than the guy.  He basically reinvented action movie directing with his additions to the Bourne series.  His shaky camera, steadicam filmmaking has been poorly imitated by many directors.  Few directors can cut together such jarring images into one coherent and breathtaking film.  That being said, this is perhaps the director's "stillest" film.  Maybe he found a tripod in his trunk or maybe he's just changing his style.  Either way, it really works for the film.  Most of the tension in Captain Phillips comes from camera placement, not camera movement.  On the escape boat, Greengrass creates a claustrophobic atmosphere through simple framing.  At the same time, he varies his shots so there is no sense of repetition or stagnation.  Considering a majority of the film takes place on this small boat, it is impressive that it feels like an ever-changing environment.

The narrative, environment, and perspective; all are in flux in Captain Phillips.  In the hands of a less talented director, this would have been a nationalistic action film.  With Paul Greengrass behind the camera, the film is fair, complex, and thought provoking.  It's a great big world out there, and it's nice to get a little perspective sometimes.

Gravity

The word "escapism" has been tossed around in many recent film reviews.  Most critics are right to use this word as it seems that Hollywood is mainly interested in mind-numbing blockbuster fare.  This makes me very sad.  While it is true that escapist films can be enjoyable, there is no real substance there.  Great films do not invite the audience to escape, they invite the audience to connect.  Great films give the viewers characters to relate to and a story to become immersed in.  While these viewers may feel like they are escaping from their daily lives, they are actually coming full circle and rediscovering parts of themselves lost or hidden.  The giant faces on the silver screen share their emotions and their struggles.  Great films like Alfonso Cuaron's Gravity show us that we are not alone.

It is interesting then that Gravity is one of the most isolating films I have ever experienced.  For the majority of the film, we are alone with astronaut Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock), spinning miles above the earth.  While this may be a boring story in the hands of any other director, Cuaron keeps the tension high and the narrative moving.  He accomplishes this by deftly alternating between the subjective and the objective.  One moment, we are in Bullock's space helmet, seeing the debris flying toward her fogged-up face plate.  The next moment, Cuaron cuts out to a wide shot, showing the relation of Bullock to Earth and the space debris.  By giving us the inside and the out, Cuaron plants us firmly in Bullock's situation while also giving us the full picture.

When Cuaron isn't making use of skillful editing techniques, he employs elaborate, long-take sequence shots.  It is hard to forget the breathtaking sequence shot in Cuaron's previous film Children of Men.  The camera follows Clive Owen through a veritable war zone as mortars explode and blood sprays across the lens.  In Gravity, the director outdoes himself.  In the opening shot, the camera swoops in and around the rotating shuttle craft.  George Clooney's Matt Kowalski jokes as he fires his jetpack and flies around the spinning craft.  The first shot must be at least five minutes long.  It is a beautiful shot that is also effective in introducing us to a strange, weightless world.  With Cuaron it is never about showing off, but you kind of want to hate the guy for being so good.

You know you're talking about a great film when the special effects aren't the first thing mentioned.  So many Hollywood special effects draw attention to themselves and you hear people walking out of the theater saying, "Well, I guess it looked cool."  With Gravity, the special effects are so seamlessly integrated into the story world that they are quickly forgotten.  Still, let's give credit where credit is due.  Cuaron and his team created a state-of-the-art LED lighting cube with motion-controlled lights.  They employed expert wirework to simulate the weightlessness.  I'm not even sure how this all works, but I don't really need to know.  I do know that for 90 minutes, I felt like I was in space, floating miles above my home.  

However, this isn't a film where people just float around in space and then go home.  While the dialogue is spare and the narrative simple, the film deals with themes of survival and resurrection.  Bullock's journey to find a way home is accompanied by a story of self-discovery and the triumph of the human spirit.  I really hate that saying, but it works in this instance.  Though I have never said this before and probably never will again, Sandra Bullock's performance is beautiful.  Hey, I liked her in Speed and Demolition Man, back when she was cute and spunky.  Older, Oscar-winning Bullock often annoys me with her overacting, but there is none of that in Gravity.  Her fear is real and her will to survive is inspiring.  So much of her performance is heavy breathing and terrified babbling, but her few moments of introspection create a full character that is immediately relatable.

It is hard to imagine finding a part of yourself in a film set in zero gravity.  I had that experience with Gravity.  I have never been in space, but I share Bullock's feelings of doubt and fear.  Like many people, I know how it is to feel alone, surrounded by blackness.  But to share that feeling with a fictional character and a theater full of people is to no longer be alone.  That is what makes cinema great; it takes us to strange new worlds while bringing us even closer to home.