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| Wednesday, March 08, 2006 |
And we rest on day Slevin
It is perhaps the most unfortunate title for a movie, but Lucky Number Slevin manages to overcome its appellation to deliver a thoroughly entertaining piece of cinematic misdirection. What is it about? It revolves around (I kid you not) a mysterious assassin named Smith, a black crime lord whose nom de guerre is The Boss, a Jewish crime lord known as The Rabbi (which is less a nom de guerre than an official title -- he actually is a rabbi), and a very unlucky young man by the name of Slevin Kalevra.
One imagines his name was the beginning of his misfortune.
Bruce Willis is Smith. Morgan Freeman is The Boss. Sir Ben Kingsley is The Rabbi, and the brash Josh Hartnett is Slevin, and if that isn't a big enough cast for you, feel free to add in Lucy Liu as a perky next-door-neighbor-slash-love-interest and Stanley Tucci as a detective who sticks his nose into this convoluted set of happenstance.
It would be difficult to explain the flick's setup without giving away too much. It's not that the opening premise holds up (surprise, surprise) under the narrative swerves that typify this genre of crime films, but half the fun of the movie is watching Hartnett wisecrack his way through a "very long story" (which thanks to the brisk and efficient editing, doesn't feel all that long). It's the zinging one-liners the script gives to Slevin's unfortunate soul that carry the film through its first half, and when paired with the ever-so-clever characters he's forced to interact with, it makes this film arguably the wittiest flick to be released so far this year.
Let us just say the opening sequence is a frenzied and humorous series of flashbacks that lead us to a wheelchair bound Smith telling a grizzly story about a gambling loss at the racetrack that led to the murder of a man, his kid, and his ex-wife. It's just the beginning of a "Kansas City shuffle," as Smith describes it, and it serves absolutely no purpose until the plot swerves about two-thirds of the way in, at which point it serves as the basis for explaining the truth behind what you thought you've been watching.
This is a hyper-stylized flick (the wallpaper alone will overwhelm you) in a well-worn genre of heist films and misdirection crime capers. It's been done before, and in the States, most people think Tarantino when they think of such a film, but director Paul McGuigan is Scottish and he's drawing heavily on the class of masterpiece criminal dramedies that have made some British auteurs famous (think Guy Ritchie's Snatch or Lock, Stock & Two Smoking Barrels).
In a brief in-theatre chat after a screening of the film, McGuigan confessed to me that he'd made very conscious decisions about doing things with this film that were a bit out of the norm from the standard approach (he mentioned Tarantino specifically). For example, he eschewed source music that could've made a killer soundtrack in favor of an actual film score. Then there was that wallpaper.
"My wife would ask me if I was looking at those wallpaper websites again," he joked. "I had to put up some porn so she'd think I was OK."
McGuigan, who joins cinematographer Peter Sova for the fourth time, no doubt brings much to the table. His fast-paced sense of visual stimulation and a keen knack for thriller storytelling helps make this more than the run of the mill crime caper. But the real strength is in the script.
Take a look at the trailer, and you'll see just a bit of the dialogue that so typified the film and made it such a joy to watch. Arguably the best bit of dialogue was a scene between Slevin and The Rabbi's henchmen, one named Saul and the other (in full on curls and black hat) who doesn't talk. First the goon nods an apology for having to punch Slevin earlier, prompting a few questions about why he never speaks.
"You'll have to ask him," retorts Saul.
"Would he answer me?" asks Slevin.
"No."
The deadpan humor goes on (and on), but finally abates when the film gets down to the business of explaining just what is actually occurring. Here Lucky Number Slevin turns towards the dark side and becomes a deadly serious flick about revenge and honor among killers.
It's a bit of a harsh turn, but it's handled perfectly, though one could quibble with Lucy Liu's character (though the actress' performance is great, against type, and a welcome addition to the ensemble). Lindsay wasn't absolutely necessary to begin with, and the way her character is resolved leaves a bit to be desired. Still, minor quibbles are all this film warrants in the way of criticism.
As it turns out, Paul McGuigan's lucky number really is Slevin.
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| Tuesday, January 03, 2006 |
The Munich cinema massacre
Forgive the critics of Munich. They are a reactionary lot, easily riled up by the name Tony Kushner (screenplay by) and the film's focus on the Israeli reprisals rather than the Munich Olympics massacre that prompted them. Without even seeing the film, some have gone so far as to denounce it as an anti-Israel betrayal on the part of Mr. Spielberg (he of Schindler's List and the Shoah Foundation), a dangerous attempt at "moral equivalence."
There are no two words more froth-inducing to pro-Israel reactionaries than "moral equivalence." I use it in quotations, because it's often a load of bunk and an excuse for dehumanizing the Palestinian population, and it's even more a load of bunk in the case of Munich.
Before going into exactly why the criticisms lobbed at Munich are so utterly dumb, let's get one thing out of the way. I don't ever want to watch this film again. Spielberg has crafted the most torpid affair in recent cinematic history. This is not a good film, though I wouldn't go so far as to say it's a bad film. This is Spielberg, and though he may have made his missteps, he is nothing if not proficient at the craft of filmmaking.
However, technical proficiency does not a fine film make. In this case, it makes a plodding flick that lumbers on for almost three hours with little in the way of actual plot. The Israeli hit squad finds a target. They craft a plan to kill the target. Then they kill the target, usually with some hiccup meant to induce tension and show the dehumanizing strain of their job. But mostly, it's just a hiccup, and then on to the next round.
By the time the film gets around to showing the emotional and moral devastation wrought on the assassins who cling to their basic righteousness despite the acts they find themselves compelled to commit, most of the audience has stopped caring. I just wanted the film to end already.
And it ended. It came to its close with nary a whimper, right in front of the New York skyline -- World Trade Center and all. One imagines this is Spielberg's way of linking the past with the present, the Israeli experience with the newly evolving American one. Or perhaps he is trying to show us that the purpose of his tale is larger than pro-Israel or anti-Israel polemics, that its about humanity in an age of violence and fear.
Whatever it was, it was also ham-handed. I'm beginning to seriously doubt Spielberg's ability to craft a decent ending.
* * *
Now that it has been established how little I like this film, let me present a defense of it. Sadly, so little has been made of whether the film is something anyone would like to watch. Far too much has been made of whether or not it's anti-Israel or not. Has Spielberg betrayed his people?
This idiot certainly thinks so (and no, it is not too strong a word). Leon Wieseltier of The New Republic also thinks Spielberg has gone round the bend. He said so on December 9 in his own magazine. David Brooks of The New York Times thinks Spielberg is an apologist for evil. Neither of them are idiots, but they act like ones more often than they should.
What's wrong with this film exactly? Apparently because it bothers to humanize Palestinians, including Palestinians who turn themselves over to acts of terrorism. It shows, horror of horrors, the moral struggle of men who act in defense of Israel but question how far they can go before losing their humanity. It conveys a complex reality. This is, so it turns out, unforgivable.
Critics like the idiot, Howard Galganov, would rather Spielberg have shown a simple story about evil Palestinians, utterly devoid of human decency and thus undeserving of the slightest sympathies. The Israeli assassins would never have a doubt in the world that they were righteous warriors, and we'd all go home content in the knowledge that Israel is good, Palestinians are bad, and the sooner we wipe them out (or at least totally break their will militarily) the better off we'll be.
Give me a break. I can't begrudge these people as much as I'd like. Many of them are fine people, decent people, even complicated people. And in a world where Israel's detractors, anti-Semites among them, are so quick to portray any semblance of failure, misconduct, or weakness as proof of the inherent unworthiness of Israel, it's easy to be reactionary. In a time when the war in the media (where Israel is utterly flumoxed) is often more important than the one on the ground (which, as it turns out, is where Israel has the advantage), it's easy to blanche at the thought of a film showing Israel's warts alongside her virtues.
Nevertheless, these people have to get a grip. Every time they assert that this is a black and white issue, they undermine their own credibility as well as the credibility of more reasonable supporters of Israel. Few people, though not few enough, are willing to stomach the line that ours is a black and white world. Because it's not.
Moreover, understanding does not need to convey sanction. Because we can come to understand why a Palestinian decides to take up arms and kill civilians does not mean we condone that killing. We can fight it and understand it at the same time. Indeed, without some understanding, we'll never be able to overcome that evil. We can only be consumed by it, forced to destroy a people or surrender to them.
And that, ultimately, is the point of Spielberg's film. However poorly it was done, he is begging us to use our minds to understand. Fight terrorism he says, never surrender in the face of evil, but seek out an understanding of why that evil is born. If that means you must recognize the underlying humanity in your enemies, then so be it, and if that makes it difficult to simply wipe them out without a second thought, then why is that so bad?
This is actually pro-Israel. It shows the humanity is never lost in these Israeli assassins, that they struggle with what they must do more than the Palestinians who never tried to see the humanity in their Israeli victims. Based on the reaction of Israel's supporters, one wonders if Spielberg is giving too much credit to the Israeli side.
This message of understanding alongside strength, of recognizing the humanity in our enemies as a way of preserving our own decency in the face of violence and war, is a fundamentally Jewish one. Shame on those who are so shrill in their defense of the Jewish state that they forget the values of the Jewish people, and shame on Spielberg for making such an utterly dull film.
Both have done a disservice to the struggle of our time, the battle against fundamentalism and terrorism. I'll leave it to you as to who has done the greater disservice.
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| Monday, December 19, 2005 |
Producers doesn't produce
For more than a year, I've waited with baited breath and heightened anticipation for The Producers, a film about a musical based on a musical about a film about a musical. Since I never had the opportunity to catch the craze of Mel Brooks' Broadway production on the Great White Way, I was looking forward to the day when I could finally get a glimpse at what all the fuss was about.
Unfortunately the new film, already attracting the expected end-of-the-year award buzz, just didn't do it for me and here's why:
For starters, comedy musicals in 2005 have to be something special, something above the fray for them to work with a modern day audience. Broad slapstick style humor, Mel Brooks' stock and trade, works with the borscht belt generation but for the next generation it needs something more. On this level, the film doesn't deliver. To today's audiences, grand gestures, overacting, and scene eating seem passe when not done in an ironic fashion.
Secondly, what makes the film seem "outdated" is its overzealous use of gay humor. Had this been the original 1968 film, it would be funny. But viewed in the context of today's vast comedic landscape -- which encompasses the much funnier narcissistic humor of shows like Arrested Development, Curb Your Enthusiasm, and even (to a lesser extent) of NBC's breakout hits My Name is Earl and The Office -- the homosexual jokes fall flat. Gay humor is old hat (we've been enjoying Will & Grace and Queer Eye for the Straight Guy for years -- indeed Queer Eye's Jai "Culture Guy" Rodriguez makes a brief cameo in the film). And now even gay dramas (Brokeback Mountain) are garnering critical acclaim. So to use this brand of humor seems ignorant at best.
Thirdly, the film looks like a stage production. Unlike the 2002 film adaptation of the musical Chicago, which had inventive cinematography, strong edits, and lavish dance numbers, The Producers looks bland. It's no wonder, considering the film is directed by Susan Stroman whose experience is mostly of the Broadway stage variety. As A.O. Scott of The New York Times correctly points out, "no effort has been made to adjust the show to the scale of the movie screen."
Perhaps the film's one saving grace is Will Ferrell's hilarious portrayal of the neo-Nazi loving screenwriter Franz Liebkind. He deserves his recent Golden Globe nomination for the role. His Saturday Night Live breeding, best explored in film's like Old School and Anchorman, are much more relatable to today's audiences. It's a shame we can't say that for the rest of the film.
Read our profile of Mel Brooks here.
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| Tuesday, December 13, 2005 |
The Christening of Sarah Silverman
When I first saw the preview for Sarah Silverman's film Jesus is Magic, I was ecstatic. The dark-haired seemingly quiet comedienne had finally made her way to the big-screen. The short trailer was hilarious. It had everyone in the theater laughing with glee. Two months later, I took two friends with me to see the film, one male and one female, to gauge its hilarity. We sat in a mostly empty theater, eagerly waiting to be entertained.
The film opens with Silverman and two of her "Hollywood" friends discussing recent projects. While her friends congratulate each other on their successes, Silverman stares at them with a worried look. The friends stop the self-congratulatory backslapping and ask Silverman what she has done recently. She pauses, and then slowly the lie tumbles out, "I'm doing a show ... about the Holocaust ... and AIDs. And it's a musical. It opens tonight." Her friends are in awe.
This is where the film really starts, as Silverman begins to sing about how she has to create a show based on the Holocaust and AIDs. Oh yeah, and it's a musical. The scenes flow from Silverman doing stand-up to elaborate musical numbers done with green-screens and a four-piece band as she "improvises" this epic show. Silverman's stand-up is raunchy at times, as she discusses anal sex with her boyfriend, "That's where poo comes from, and that's it."
Her jokes are funny largely due to her delivery and the fact that this sexist racist humor comes from a sweet little Jewish girl. She rarely launches into the late Richard Pryor-like frenzies; instead she takes a low-key approach and then throws in a blunt punch line: "The best time to get pregnant is when you're a black teenager." This style of stand-up blindsides the audience, but often misses the mark. I found that for most of the film, a large part of the 20 people attending weren't laughing. One couple actually walked out, not offended, but bored.
The film is short, thankfully. After finishing her show, Silverman indulges herself backstage with a bong hit and then her two friends from the beginning of the show come to congratulate her. She listens to their praise, but shoos them out for some "me time," which is odd considering the last 70 minutes were already all about her.
Silverman's film may be amusing and off-color, but it could've been more effective as a feature film if she has concentrated on keeping the audience's attention rather than offending them.
Read our profile of Sarah Silverman here.
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| Monday, November 28, 2005 |
Ignore the Protocols
Marc Levin's new documentary Protocols of Zion made waves at Sundance this year ... but I'm not really sure why. Yes, the subject matter -- how the controversial Russian Protocols of the Elders of Zion has spurred a century of virulent anti-Semitism -- is a hot button topic that many Jews and non-Jews alike will find interesting.
However, the film's undoing is not in its topic, but in the way Levin attempts to get his message -- whatever that may be -- across to the audience. Levin, who gained notoriety with 1998's Slam, uses the attacks of 9/11 (and the subsequent popularized myth that no Jews were killed in the World Trade Center) as the springboard for his road trip (which barely leaves the New York area) to see how people really feel about Jews in America.
Again, that's all well and good, a fine idea for a compelling documentary. But, unfortunately, Levin gets in the way by driving the film into various differing trajectories. First, he turns it into a father-son flick by dragging his dad along to reminisce about growing up Jewish in the Bronx. Then, one day while filming, he sees something on the news about the war in Iraq and decides to devote 20 minutes to that. Then, on another day of filming, an Arab sheik is murdered. Another 20 minutes about that.
A documentary about any one of these topics would be interesting on their own merit. But Levin has cinematic A.D.D. and is not content to stick with just one. Compound that with the fact that Levin is insistent on being incendiary, and likes to push buttons ... like when he badmouths Arabs ... in front of Arabs.
In any event, it's a Jewish film which means it'll draw the usual crowd of tribe members wishing to see themselves reflected on the silver screen. Nonetheless, you may want to curb your enthusiasm for this one.
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| Monday, November 21, 2005 |
A holiday movie for the rest of us
Siblings Benyamin and Chanie Cohen both went out and saw Ushpizin. While they may have the same genetic code, they don't have the same opinion of this Israeli film.
She said: In the Israeli film Ushpizin, directed by Gidi Dar, two escaped convicts visit an ultra-Orthodox family in the Meah Shearim section of Jerusalem on the holiday of Sukkot, where the couple are going through particularly troubled times of their own.
During the first few minutes of the movie, I have to admit that skepticism overtook me. The last time I saw Chassidic garb on the big screen was in A Stranger Among Us, where Melanie Griffith (not very plausibly) seduces a Chassidic man in Williamsburg. And the gap-toothed convict in the movie brought back childhood memories of the same hokey-looking criminals in Home Alone.
But as the movie progressed, I found myself forgetting my original cynicism, and being drawn into the extremely moving, touching, and even humorous story. The lead actor (who also wrote the script for the film), Shuli Rand, excels at portraying human emotion (without even reading the subtitles, you can interpret his happiness, sadness, and anger just in his eyes), and his on-screen wife (who is actually his real-life spouse), gives a brave and affecting performance herself. The onscreen chemistry between them was clear, without a single kiss shown during the entire movie.
And where with A Stranger Among Us, Orthodox moviegoers found themselves yelling at the screen with the inconsistencies of how unrealistically (and detrimentally) Chassidic life is portrayed, they will find heartening how realistic this movie gets the job done. That's probably because (as I found out afterward), the movie was actually filmed on location in Jerusalem and many of the speaking parts in the film were cast to formerly secular actors who became religious themselves.
The movie's message: everything in life happens for a reason, and the obstacles that we face are tests of faith that we must overcome. Hokey? Yes. But a good time at the movies? Absolutely.
He said: With most movies I see, they rarely ever live up to the hype. So most movies I see are at a tremendous disadvantage. With expectations set high, it's not too often that they actually deliver. George Clooney's sleep-inducing Good Night, and Good Luck is a recent example.
So with Ushpizin, I had heard this was It's A Wonderful Life for Jews (which, admittedly, piqued my interest). That, I knew, was already strike one. I already knew it wasn't actually going to be a classic and timeless holiday film that would be cherished for generations and aired on television every year.
Nonetheless, I was still excited. So let me say it now: This film is not bad, but it's not that great either. It's got a ho-hum storyline and the acting is just fine. But like every other Jewish film I see, it preys on such stereotypes as to make the film an unenjoyable experience. Why does every movie with Jews in it have to show such extremes -- a Chassid, an atheist? Why can't the American public be exposed to non-fanatics such as, and this is just one example, Modern Orthodox Jews -- who lead realtively average lives of being a doctor or a lawyer, but also keep kosher and observe Shabbat?
Curb Your Enthusiasm, which is one of the most prescient shows on television today, comes close to showing America what a "normal" Jew is in this country. This season alone has shown High Holiday services, a Passover Seder, and Larry affixing a mezuzah on his doorpost -- although he used a commemorative nail from the Passion of the Christ. He's a typical American Reform Jew. And it's important for our country -- who often believe in ridiculous misnomers about Jews -- to be exposed to the non-fanatical side of our religion.
All that being said, Ushpizin is a pleasant way to spend two hours. And after reading my review, there's no way the hype will ruin it for you.
Ushpizin opens in Atlanta on Wednesday, November 23, at the Landmark Midtown Art theater. For showtimes, click here.
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| Wednesday, November 09, 2005 |
Suicide bombing, a practical affair
The War Within: 3 stars
Paradise Now: 4 stars (Playing at the Landmark Midtown Art Cinema, showtimes)
Earlier this year, there was a film about a suicide bomber. It was called The War Within, and it wasn't half bad. It was only half good largely because it tried too hard to be fair, to tip-toe down the line of political sensitivity a bit too much. It depicted a Pakistani who, having endured a torturous (literally) incarceration, is smuggled into the United States so he might blow himself to smithereens at Grand Central Station.
It's certainly worth seeing, assuming you can find somewhere to see it. The bomber Hassan shows up at the New Jersey home of his friend Sayeed, who having no idea of Hassan's intentions welcomes him to stay. Tensions build as Hassan's views slip out and he begins to doubt his mission, wondering if he might be better off just living the happy life of an American family man -- or something like that.
As I said, it's worth viewing. But it wasn't great.
Paradise Now is better, also about suicide bombers, and set in Israel instead of the other capital of world Jewry. It's been bopping around the festival circuit, but it lands in Atlanta's Landmark Midtown Art Cinema, and even more than The War Within it's worth a viewing.
In this case, the pitfalls of political correctness are done away with. It's not only that the filmmakers (Israeli-born Palestinian director with a crew of Israelis, Palestinians, and Westerners) weren't making a film about Muslims in the United States, but a film about Palestinians in their native region. In this case, they sidestep grandiose political ambition by merely depicting two days in the life of a suicide bombing duo.
The result is something almost banal, and yet utterly fascinating. Rather than dramatize, director Hany Abu-Asad shows the practical side of suicide bombing, reducing the revolutionary figments of our imagination to what they truly are -- just people, almost bureaucratic in their planning and supporting of the bombing. It humanizes the Palestinian terrorists, yes. That is not what makes this film so disturbing, rather it is the dispassionate way it shows a reality bleaker than the dreams of those who stay just far enough from the fray to spew their rhetoric.
In the character of Suha, the film makes its most overt reach for political comment. A Palestinian, but born in France and raised in Morocco, she becomes the love interest of one of the bombers. She objects to the suicide terrorism of her people, practically and theologically. It's a wrinkle, but it doesn't detract from the overpowering focus of the film on the banal realities. Hannah Arendt would be proud.
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