Movie Review: Paranormal Activity (2009, Directed by Oren Peli)

I am afraid of things that go bump in the night. Graphic violence, bizarre creatures, and visible physical threats have no real psychological impact on me as a filmgoer. However, I cry like a baby at the thought of those threats I cannot see.

Paranormal Activity, the new ultra low-budget blockbuster horror pic, worked its magic on me. I trembled through the dark semi-dark streets after the screening, keeping diligent track of every stray sound and movement in the shadows on my way to the subway. At home, I woke up in the night three times, even getting out of bed to check on some bizarre noises in the hallway. Sure, that banging noise overhead was probably some twigs falling on the roof in the windy night. Yes, the high-pitched screeching noise was probably the infant in the apartment next door. But … logical explanations do not always grip the rational mind in the dead of night.

Katie Featherston and Micah Sloat play a young suburban San Diego couple with a paranormal problem. Katie has had strange noises and movements following her for a good part of her life. It seems to be getting worse lately. Who can logically explain the slamming of a door in the night or shrieking sounds downstairs? Micah decides to start filming some of the paranormal activity. If only the young couple can create a visual record of the weirdness, they might be better able to fix the problem. However, Micah’s use of the technology seems to tick off these unknown forces even more.

Supposedly, the audience of Paranormal Activity is watching the “found footage” the couple makes, in the manner of Blair Witch Project. There are no opening or closing credits to remind the viewer that it’s indeed “only a movie.” For the most part, the film’s central gimmick works. The picture’s pretense of reality raises the fright factor quite a bit.

One’s reaction to a film like Paranormal Activity is completely subjective. About half the people I have talked to who have seen the picture admit to being genuinely terrified. The other half feel that the film is phony and fails miserably at its intent to truly frighten the audience. All I can say is it worked for me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I heard a slamming door in the bedroom. In the words of Robert DeNiro in Taxi Driver, “I’m the only one here.” Hmm …

Movie Review: A Serious Man (2009, Directed by the Coen Brothers)

The Coen Brothers have accomplished something extraordinary. They have now, in my estimation, created not one, not two, but three nearly flawless films. The cinematic perfection of Fargo and No Country for Old Men is matched by the brothers’ (post-?) modern reinvention of the story of Job, A Serious Man.

Let me begin by pointing out that I laughed more at this film than I have at any other movie the Coens have made, including such deliberately funny offerings as The Big Lebowski and Raising Arizona. My laughter at A Serious Man, however, was of the nervous variety most of the time. Our protagonist Larry Gopkin, played, in one of the best performances of the year, by veteran stage actor Michael Stuhlbarg, is on the brink of disaster. Gopkin is a Jewish physics professor in suburban Minneapolis in the late 1960s. His wife is leaving him for their next-door neighbor (Fred Melamed), his son is smoking pot at his own bar mitzvah, his deadbeat brother is living at his home and constantly taking up all the bathroom time, his academic committee is threatening not to grant him tenure, a student is bribing him monetarily to give him a passing grade, and the stupid Columbian record company won’t stop calling to demand payment for records poor Gopkin hasn’t even listened to. Oy vey … what a day!

Gopkin wants to know just exactly what he has done wrong. He has tried to be a serious man, attending the synagogue, raising his children to be moral, committing himself fully to his job, being a good husband, etc. etc. etc. Why, then, must he suffer? Is this God’s way of “rewarding” him for being such a devout human being?

The answer to these questions is never fully revealed in the film. Gopkin seeks guidance from three rabbis and one attorney. Just when he thinks life is on the upswing, things fall apart and all his hope comes crashing violently to the ground. Did I mention, by the way, that this is a comedy?

The fact that the Coens can make such a funny and profound film out of such weighty material is evidence of their superb artistic abilities. From the opening seconds of A Serious Man, featuring a Yiddish prologue and one of the more brilliant credit sequences I’ve seen in some time, to the baffling, yet intriguing, ending, I felt that I was in masterful hands. Never do the Coens take a misstep in this picture.

Watching filmmakers as sure-footed as the Coens at the top of their game is almost a spiritual experience. Yes, they have made some less-than-stellar films over the years (last year’s Burn After Reading being one of them, in my opinion). But, even when they make films that don’t succeed on every level, they are never boring. When they do make films that work throughout (like A Serious Man), they are an absolute joy.

I was more engaged by A Serious Man than any other film this year, and that includes both Inglorious Basterds and The Hurt Locker, two other pictures I was ecstatic about. 2009 is turning out to be a good year for film indeed.

Movie Review: Zombieland (Directed by Ruben Fleischer, 2009)

I absolutely love laughing at the sight of zombies being shot in the head, hit with a baseball bat, or taken out by a swift hit from a Hummer door. Therefore, I had a great time with Zombieland, the new comedy staring Jesse Eisenberg and Woody Harrelson.

Eisenberg plays a loner college student who has survived the ultimate Zombie apocalypse. America has been reduced, a la Cormac McCarthy, to a sad series of burned-out buildings, abandoned vehicles, and flesh-hungry former-humans running around like … well … zombies. Eisenberg has survived the zombie apocalypse by following a few simple rules. Along the way, he meets professional redneck-turned-zombie-killer Tallahassee (Harrelson). The two team up to not only kill as many zombies as possible, but also hopefully find some semblance of a home. Along the way, they meet twentyish Wichita (Emma Stone) and her 12-year old sister Little Rock (Abigail Breslin). Their mission, if they choose to accept it, is to make it to L.A., where the two sisters will visit an amusement park they remember from their childhoods. Heck, at least they won’t have to wait in line very long to ride the wild rollercoaster.

If the above premise leaves you shrugging your shoulders and saying “why would I want to see a movie about killing zombies?” then this film is probably not for you. It is nothing but old-fashioned zombie fun. However, the filmmakers and actors do show more creativity and craft then you might initially expect from such exploitation fare. Yes, there’s a lot of zombie blood and gore, but not throughout the entire film. A good portion of the movie is simply a great “four people on a mission” story. The actors portray these characters sympathetically enough that we actually care about them by the end of the story. At the film’s conclusion, I was really hoping they didn’t get eaten by flesh-eating zombies.

I should also note that Zombieland contains one of the funniest cameo appearances by a major actor in any motion picture I have seen. I won’t ruin the surprise for you, or explain how the filmmakers set up the appearance. Let’s just say it’s worth the price of admission alone.

My recommendation is to see Zombieland. At the very least, you’ll be better prepared for the oncoming apocalypse. You might even want to take notes on Eisenberg’s “rules of zombie survival.” You never know when they might come in handy.

Movie Review: Bright Star (2009, Directed by Jane Campion)

Jane Campion’s Bright Star visually embodies the core principles of Romanticism. As an audience, we relish each scrumptious piece of eye-candy Campion puts before us, from the field of purple flowers, to the bubbling English brook, to the soft fall of rain in the countryside. Campion avoids making the easy mistakes that befall many creators of literary biopics. She understands that, although we are watching the story of a brilliant man of letters, the image must match the word in grace and beauty.

Bright Star tells the story of John Keats, the most brilliant of all the English Romantic poets to emerge as the 18th century gave way to the 19th century. Keats’ story is one of unfulfilled dreams and desires, much like the young lovers in his brilliant poem “Ode on a Grecian Urn.” The only love of his life is his neighbor Fanny Brawne. The relationship, excluding a few quick kisses, is kept entirely platonic. The possibility of a more intimate liaison looms over the narrative. However, the relationship is cut tragically short by Keats’ untimely death at the age of 25 from tuberculosis.

I’ve been mulling over the question of why I connected with this movie so much. Normally, I am not a fan of literary adaptations or biopics, even though (or, perhaps, because) I teach literature for a living. Perhaps I was drawn deeply into the story because John Keats is one of my favorite poets. I simply admire Campion greatly for not “messing up” this story. She avoids the temptation of “modernizing” the story. She doesn’t transform proto-Victorian restraint into unrelenting passion. Campion strikes the right balance between focusing on Keats the man and focusing on Keats the poet. Indeed, she doesn’t overuse excerpts from Keats’ poetry, but rather peppers the already interesting story with tiny bits of verse. The use of such classic poems as “When I Have Fears” and “Ode to Melancholy” never feels contrived. Campion only uses the lines from Keats’ oeuvre when doing so organically serves the story.

Although Bright Star is an engaging and beautiful film, it is by no means perfect. The ending, in particular, dragged on a bit too long for my taste. The film labored over Keats’ deadly ailment to an excessive degree. However, the stunning images, natural dialogue, and subtle performances by actors Ben Whishaw and Abbie Cornish more than make up for the flaws. To quote Mr. Keats himself, “a thing of beauty is a joy forever.”

Movie Review: Inglourious Basterds (2009, Directed by Quentin Tarantino)

I must admit that I feel a bit “behind the curve” when discussing Quentin Tarantino’s new film Inglourious Basterds. The film has been in theatres for nearly two weeks. Since its release, hundreds of amateur and professional critics have dedicated thousands upon thousands of words to virtually every aspect of Tarantino’s movie. I have seen the picture twice now and have read much of what has been written about it, both in print and on the Internets. I feel that I have very little to add to the conversation that hasn’t already been articulated somewhere along the way. Therefore, rather than offering a “review” in the conventional sense, I’ve decided to simply talk about my feelings toward Tarantino as a director, and how the latest addition to his oeuvre validates my view of the celebrated director’s output.

Watching Inglourious Basterds for the second time at a north side Chicago multiplex this weekend, I reflected upon why Tarantino is one of my favorite directors. I am a self-described “film geek.” I love to watch, think about, talk about, and write about movies of all different genres and time periods. Therefore, I’m a part of Tarantino’s target audience in many ways. I love watching Tarantino’s pictures, but I love hearing him talk about movies even more. Tarantino simply knows more about movies than almost anyone alive. He has watched and thought carefully about more films than I will ever have time to pursue in my lifetime. His vast knowledge and passion for all things cinematic make him a critical and film-geek darling. His movies are peppered with obscure film reference upon obscure film reference.

But … vast knowledge of film history and technique is not enough to make a great film. I thought of other film directors who have a similar passion and knowledge for the art of cinema, but do not make films that resonate with their audiences on the same level as a Pulp Fiction or a Reservoir Dogs. What is the difference between Quentin Tarantino, who has not only managed to make the film geeks and movie critics fall in love with him, but also continually reaches a more mainstream audience, and a filmmaker who possesses similar filmic knowledge and cinematic abilities, but whose pictures remain more obscure (say, Jim Jarmusch, for example)?

I think the answer is bound up in a word that probably doesn’t come up enough in film criticism today … fun. Tarantino stubbornly refuses to inject his films with moralizing lessons for the good of humanity or arty cinematic tropes only understood by the most dedicated cineastes among us. Pulp Fiction is simply fun. The plot, which includes a horrific heroin overdose, a watch stuck in an uncomfortable position, and a messy accident in a car involving a misfired gun and a young man’s head, is not fun. The way Tarantino tells the story is. When asked to name my favorite films of all time, I used to say “Vertigo, because it shows us that cinema can make us feel, Citizen Kane, because it shows us that cinema can make us think, and Pulp Fiction, because it shows us that cinema can make us have fun.”

What is so fun about the worlds Tarantino creates in his movies? Tarantino joins the ranks of great directors in history, Howard Hawks and Preston Sturges among them, who create utterly engaging dialogue. I would listen to Travolta and Jackson talk about cheeseburgers and foot massages any day of the week. I wasn’t bored by one second of Death Proof, even though the first hour contained an almost non-stop stream of dialogue. I simply love spending time with Tarantino’s characters, as creepy as they may be at times.

One of the other supreme joys of Tarantino’s work is his play with structure and storytelling technique. Tarantino is never content to tell a story in a conventional, linear fashion. He destroys all sense of time, allowing events to unfold before us in the way that is most logical to the plot and the movie’s overall effect. Rather than seeming like a hackneyed gimmick, Tarantino’s “time play” lends credibility and interest to the stories he tells. Reservoir Dogs and Kill Bill are so engaging partially because they challenge us as viewers to construct our own understanding and context for the events unfolding before us. Samuel L. Jackson’s famous monologue at the end of Pulp Fiction works so well because we know things that he and John Travolta don’t know about what will happen to both characters in the future.

These observations about the “fun” of QT bring me to Tarantino’s glourious [sic] journey through Nazi-occupied France. Yes, I loved Inglourious Basterds. No, it is not historically accurate. No, it does NOT deny the Holocaust. Yes, it is graphically violent at times (although in a surprisingly restrained manner). Yes, it does contain one of the greatest openings of any film I have ever seen. Yes, Christoph Waltz gives one of the best performances of the year. Yes, Brad Pitt is both amusing and annoying as all get out in his role as a Southerner whose job is to “kill Naaazis.” No, Eli Roth cannot act. Yes, the David Bowie song near the end of the film serves the narrative perfectly well. Yes … it is really, really fun.

Are Tarantino’s fun-inducing abilities reason enough to hail him one of the great auteurs of our time? Probably not, if it weren’t for the fact that Tarantino is also one of the great technical artists to ever stand behind the camera. Inglourious Basterds, in fact, might just be his greatest achievement on a technical level yet. At least two scenes are absolutely flawless in the way they build dramatic suspense for a long period of time, only to explode in shocking violence. They are both an improvement upon, and a logical conclusion to, the “adrenaline” scene from Pulp Fiction and the “ear” scene from Reservoir Dogs.

One slight word of caution: If you are planning to see Tarantino’s new movie just because you are fascinated with WWII … don’t. Inglourious Basterds is no more about WWII and Hitler than Pulp Fiction is about hit-men in Southern California. Tarantino uses the basic historical context as a canvas to paint upon. He uses the narrative contexts of Hitler, a band of Nazi-scalping Jewish-American soldiers, and German propaganda films to convey interesting truths about his chosen characters.

If, on the other hand, you are dying to see a movie that doesn’t insult your intelligence and displays an astounding degree of originality and care in production, you should check out QT’s latest offering. Get ready to be wowed by, as Alfred Hitchcock once stated, “pure cinema.” Did I mention, by the way, that it’s just a lot of fun?

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P.S.: I am convinced that more words have been written on the Internet about Tarantino’s latest flick than the healthcare debate, Ted Kennedy’s death, and Michael Jackson’s memorial service combined. Here are just a few online discussions that I have found particularly engaging, amidst all the hype:

Jim Emerson’s Scanners blog:
http://blogs.suntimes.com/scanners/2009/08/contra-basterds.html

Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule:
http://sergioleoneifr.blogspot.com/2009/08/talking-inglourious-basterds-final.html

Glenn Kenny’s Some Came Running:
http://somecamerunning.typepad.com/some_came_running/2009/08/tarantinos-minimalist-maximalism.html

Filmspotting, from Chicago Public Radio:
http://www.filmspotting.net/

Movie Review: Taking Woodstock (2009, Directed by Ang Lee)

Ang Lee’s latest film Taking Woodstock strangely resembles the famed 1969 cultural event in its structure: rambling, free-spirited, and tripped out … man. Lee and company take one of the most important cultural and musical events of the 20th century’s latter half and give it the ol’ cute and farcical treatment. We’re left with a film that is only intermittingly engaging. Most of the time, I was left wanting less of the sex and drugs and more of the rock n’ roll.

Ang’s first tactical error is casting Comedy Central comedian Demetri Martin in the lead role. Martin plays a young man who, in an attempt to save his parents’ failing hotel in the Catskills, plays a pivotal role in making the Woodstock Music and Arts Festival a reality. I deeply respect Martin’s work as a comedian. I find his deadpan style when delivering jokes about “important things” like chairs and pillow fights quite amusing. As an actor, however, Martin simply sits on screen. Not one ounce of energy radiates from his austere face. This stoical approach works sometimes. However, Martin is in deep trouble each time he is required to show the least bit of emotion.

Minor characters inform us that Hendrix, The Who, Joplin, and Jefferson Airplane are playing Woodstock. The film provides us no visual or audio evidence that these extraordinary musical acts graced the stage in upstate New York, however. In fact, the music is such a small part of Lee’s narrative that we pretty much forget that any great music happened there at all. I would not want actors trying to portray Hendrix or Joplin performing on the Woodstock stage. I would simply like to know more about how the musicians were booked for the gig, how they got to the performing venue—transportation was a major issue with the New York freeway backed up for miles upon miles, and what the performers thought about the energetic, yet tripped-out crowd. None of these questions are given one second of consideration in Lee’s version of the Woodstock experience.

Martin’s character undergoes a transformation throughout the picture. In the beginning, he is a shy, quiet young man whose main concern is helping his parents survive and keep their business. By the end, he is ready to put flowers in his hair, join up with the hippies, and head to San Francisco, leaving his East Coast existence completely in the dust. Man … that must have been some far out acid he dropped in that one scene. Martin’s transformation feels insincere because the actor fails to exude any truth in his portrayal of the character.

Many will want to see Taking Woodstock simply for a nostalgia trip. If you must … you must. I would suggest, though, checking out an informative and well-made documentary by Barbara Kopple called Woodstock: Then and Now. It’s been playing lately on both VH1 and The History Channel. Unlike Lee’s fictional account of the event, Kopple’s documentary doesn’t forget that music happened on that hill in the Catskills.

Movie Review: District 9 (2009, Directed by Neill Blomkamp)

District 9 is essentially a B-level alien movie with a conscious. Like many of the beloved low-budget sci-fi/horror films of the 1950s (The Blob, The Invasion of the Body Snatchers, etc.) South African director Neill Blomkamp’s debut film attempts to engage with some of today’s pressing social issues while simultaneously giving the audience a fun experience. At times, it succeeds. At other times, Blomkamp tries too hard to inject “Significance” into a film whose second half focuses primarily on “blowing things up real good.”

If you’ve been to a major film or watched any television in the last few months, chances are you have seen the trailer for District 9. The basic plot is revealed in the promotional materials for the film, but here’s a quick re-cap: A race of aliens have made contact with Earth. The creatures are quarantined by the South African government in a ghetto known as District 9. Sharlto Copley plays a field operative named Wikus van der Merwe, who works for a private company charged with controlling the aliens. Multi-National United (MNU) has an interest in trying to figure out how to make the aliens’ technologically-advanced weapons work. Copley is arrogant and timid at the same time as he goes about the business of moving the aliens out of District 9. However, Copley undergoes an unexpected, accidental physical transformation that has profound implications for him, his fellow humans, and the alien race.

District 9 is to be commended on a number of fronts. First-time actor Sharlto Copley is refreshingly nuanced in the lead performance. He brings out the many shades of van der Merwe’s personality, from intolerance to selfishness, from arrogance to helplessness, from ignorance to timidity. In addition, the special effects in Blomkamp’s movie work quite beautifully most of the time. He succeeds in creating a world that is both believable (the backdrop of Johannesburg is authentic) and creatively creepy (the aliens are quite disturbing to look at throughout the movie). At the very least, Blomkamp has succeeded in creating a mildly thought provoking summer entertainment.

The problem is that the film is not nearly as profound as it pretends to be. District 9 is obviously meant to be read as an allegory encompassing contemporary issues of apartheid, racism, “ghettoization,” and cultural arrogance. The attempt at engaging the audience in important issues is commendable. Blomkamp’s screenplay just lacks the subtlety needed to explore these social problems with the complexity appropriate to such large subjects.

The other major problem is the entire second half of the movie. While I found the first half heavy-handed in its approach to apartheid and other political travesties, the second half condescended to the hackneyed clichés of summer action pictures. It’s almost as if the director lost interest in the deep issues he raised in the first half, and decided to just blow things up for an hour or so.

In District 9, we have a wonderful idea for a movie. I would love to see the short film upon which the full-length movie was purportedly based. I have a feeling it might not suffer from the same overbloatedness that plagued much of the complete film. Nevertheless, Blomkamp is off to an interesting start, and I’m anxious to see what he’ll do next. Actor Sharlto Copley has a similarly bright future ahead of him. Now he needs to star in a movie that has a better understanding of what it’s trying to be.