By Jason Apuzzo. A new trailer is out for David Fincher’s adaptation of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, which opens December 21st. You can check out the trailer above; be advised that it’s on the adult/mature side.
This trailer overall is much less striking than the first one, and is obviously intended to introduce the main characters and also more elements of the plot. I like the mood and atmosphere of it – the aggressive cutting and ominous music work well – but unfortunately I think Fincher is giving us too much plot here and too many characters, because outside of the somewhat freakish Lisbeth Salander (who comes across here like a self-mortifying, medieval monk) everything else about this film looks quite conventional, as thrillers go. Were it not for Christopher Plummer’s presence, I doubt I’d even be interested in watching this film. Why? Because as is so often the case with Fincher’s films, I’m wondering whether this one is promising more originality than it will actually deliver. And as for Daniel Craig, he continues to be affectless and dull; it’s difficult to imagine watching him over the course of what is intended to be a trilogy.
In any case, I’m curious as to what people think – especially those of you who’ve have read the books or seen the Noomi Rapace films. Are you getting what you want here?
By Jason Apuzzo. The first trailer for the Clint Eastwood-Leonardo DiCaprio J. Edgar was released yesterday, and I wanted to say a few words about it.
Regular LFM readers know that back in July I did an in-depth script review of J. Edgar, and for the time being I’d rather not recapitulate what was said then in terms of the film’s basic storyline and themes; suffice it to say that if you read this site routinely, you already know in great detail what J. Edgar is going to be about. What I’d like to comment on instead, because for the first time in the trailer we’re get an extended look at it, is DiCaprio’s performance as Hoover. And based on what I’m seeing in the trailer, I’m not terribly impressed.
DiCaprio as Hoover.
Here is how I evaluate DiCaprio: over the years he’s evolved into a stylish leading man, best suited to films like Catch Me If You Can, The Aviator or even Inception (a film I otherwise disliked) in which he can trade off his smooth good looks and impish disposition to nice effect. Truth be told, DiCaprio at this point is more of a European, Alain Delon-type lothario than a gritty, James Cagney-style brawler, which is really what the J. Edgar Hoover story needs. DiCaprio temperamentally belongs in sophisticated, Transatlantic fare like Delon’s Once a Thief (1965) or The Leopard (1963), rather than in a big, sprawling, boisterous biopic about America’s top cop.
In the J. Edgar trailer, DiCaprio is still coming across to me as too youthful and soft to carry a picture like this. This film needed someone like a Jack Nicholson (think Hoffa), a young Robert De Niro (a la Raging Bull) or even a younger Clint Eastwood himself (circa Heartbreak Ridge) to pull off a character of this scale – to make the character feel truly grand, fearsome, just and tragic. As things stand, this is looking a little bit like high school drama hour.
By Joe Bendel. So deeply ingrained are the images of a devastated Poland during WWII and the Soviet era, many Americans forget the millennia-old country was one of the great European powers during the Middle Ages. Poland’s Casimir III was the first crown head of Europe to grant legal protection to Jewish subjects. It was also one of the few European countries untouched by the Black Death, perhaps the result of good national karma. The glory of Medieval Poland is evoked in Kamil Polak’s visually arresting animated short The Lost Town of Świteź (trailer above), which screens this Saturday as part of the shorts program during the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s Transitions retrospective of recent Polish cinema.
Based on Adam Mickiewicz’s epic poem, one of many celebrating Poland’s folklore, Town begins on the proverbial dark and stormy night. A nineteenth century nobleman’s carriage is waylaid by the inclement weather. Far from a sanctuary, this forest appears to be enchanted. Seeking refuge from spectral horse-soldiers, the man finds himself transported to the mythic city of Świteź, where he witnesses its destruction at the hands of the hordes pursuing him. As the city faithful send up orisons to heaven, a choir of angels comes down to bear witness to man’s carnage (and perhaps the salvation of the next life).
Combining specially commissioned oil paintings, rendered in a style suggestive of great Polish artists like Józef Chełmoński and Aleksander Gierymski, with state of the art computer animation, Town has a rich, ethereal look unlike any in recent animation. Some enterprising film festival ought to program it with Lech Majewski’s The Mill and the Cross, which in many ways is the nearest comparable film.
Perhaps though, what is most striking about Town is the unapologetically powerful Christian imagery. Completely without irony, Polak’s film conveys an apocalyptic Christian vision with far greater overwhelming immediacy than anything attempted in recent evangelical cinema. Yet it can also be enjoyed simply as a Slavonic variant on the Atlantis archetype. The film is also perfectly scored by Irina Bogdanovich, whose compositions unambiguously suggest the Middle Ages, but with a hint of romanticism.
Town truly proves animation can be both a form of entertainment as well as high art. Best appreciated on the big screen, Polak will present his painterly canvas in-person when Town screens this Saturday (9/10) at the Walter Reade Theater, as part of Transition’s shorts block. It will also screen again in New York later in the month (9/23) at the 2011 NYC Short Film Festival as part of program A.
By Joe Bendel. Punk rock is supposed to be subversive. For Communist Poland poised on the brink of Martial Law, it was downright revolutionary, in spades. Yet, young Janek and his friends were not trying to be political, and this is exactly why their music is so threatening in Jacek Borcuch’s All That I Love (trailer above), Poland’s most recent submission for official foreign language Academy Award consideration, which screens this Saturday as part of the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s new retrospective, Transitions: Recent Polish Cinema.
Janek’s brother also plays in his hardcore punk band, All That I Love, affectionately known as ATIL for short. His mother is a nurse, which is all fine and good, but his father is a mid-level officer in the Polish Navy. Ordinarily this is a good thing, leading to a few modest perks for the family. However, when courting Basia Martyniak, the very cute daughter of Solidarity organizers, it is not so hot. The rebellious nature of his music does not cut much ice with the Martyniaks either, but Basia is impressed.
Though not necessarily impressed himself, Janek’s father is still supportive enough to arrange rehearsal space on the local base. Clearly the naval captain is not the typical Communist apparatchik, a fact not lost on Sokołowski, the neighborhood Party snitch. Resenting the boys’ ill-concealed interest in his cougarish wife, Sokołowski targets them where it will hurt the most—their music.
Throughout the film, Borcuch juggles a number of disparate elements quite sure-handedly, including a rather tender coming-of-age romance and some paint-peeling punk, based on the music of the era-appropriate Polish band WC. It is also a story of human tragedy, directly resulting from an inherently oppressive political ideology. Yet part of the irony of ATIL is that Janek’s family will probably be far better off in the new Poland that rises from the ashes of Communism for having gone through their tribulations in the film. Unfortunately, viewers can surmise the short term will be rather long and difficult for them in the December of 1981.
There is no denying the charismatic appeal of Borcuch’s teen-aged leads. Mateusz Kościukiewicz’s Janek could have walked out of Tom Hanks’ That Thing You Do into Jaruzelski’s police state, while as Basia, Olga Frycz resembles a considerably younger and warmer Nicole Kidman. Yet, arguably Andrzej Chrya serves as the lynchpin of the film, investing Janek’s father with humanity and integrity that will first challenge and then reconfirm all our assumptions of Poland’s Communist military.
With convincing period detail, Elwira Pluta’s design team faithfully recreates the bleak look of Martial Law era Poland, when Brutalist-style Soviet housing projects were considered desirable. Nevertheless, despite the apparent downer ending mandated by history, ATIL is a surprisingly uplifting film, deriving optimism from the spirit of its characters. An excellent kick-off for the FSLC’s Transitions series, ATIL screens this Saturday (9/10) and next Thursday (9/15) at the Walter Reade Theater.
By Jason Apuzzo. THE PITCH: Timur Bekmambetov produces a $5 million found-footage sci-fi thriller about an ‘officially’ scrubbed Apollo 18 mission that we learn was secretly launched by the Defense Department in December 1974 in search of … a mysterious presence on the Moon.
THE SKINNY: The Weinstein-distributed Apollo 18 wastes a great premise and an effective re-creation of America’s pioneering Moon landings on a listless storyline, thin characters, lame thrills, and a gratuitous cheap shot at the U.S. military that confounds the film’s own plot. NASA was wise to steer clear of this film, and so should you.
WHAT WORKS: • If you ever wanted to experience what a Moon landing might feel like from the first-person perspective of the astronauts, Apollo 18 captures that in 1970s period detail – although the film spends too much time in the claustrophobic confines of the lunar lander, and never fully stretches its legs on the Moon.
• The found-footage motif is worked nicely into the storyline, introducing (courtesy of Apple’s Final Cut Pro) a mixture of handheld Super-8mm footage and distressed analog video that gives the film visual interest and an authentic, period feel.
WHAT DOESN’T WORK: • Actors Lloyd Owen and Warren Christie aren’t able to capture the stoic, tight-lipped heroism of actual astronauts. Their acting performances here are much too histrionic to be believable given the circumstances of the mission and the time period.
• ***SPOILER ALERT*** The plot hinges on the idea that the Defense Department would send U.S. astronauts to the Moon without briefing them on the basic nature of their mission, and would even leave them to die – even when rescue is possible. The film’s cynicism is ugly, and undermines the storyline’s basic believability. ***END OF SPOILERS***
• The film’s amateur attempt at ‘suspense,’ such as it is, never really achieves much of a payoff. The ‘threat’ the astronauts eventually uncover on the Moon would barely pass muster in a Roger Corman movie.
• The film lacks humor or laughs, giving it no place to go once the shock-moments wear off. As a result the movie is dull – like listening to Muzak for 90 minutes inside a 1970s photo booth.
THE BOTTOM LINE: Trying to quickly cash-in on the alien invasion and found-footage genres, Apollo 18 has the extreme misfortune of being out at the same time that a newly remastered, 3D IMAX version of Michael Bay’s Transformers: Dark of the Moon just arrived in theaters this past week. Since Apollo 18 is so utterly forgettable, and even contemptible in its cynicism toward the American military, my strong advice is to spend your money this weekend watching the first 10 minutes of Dark of the Moon, instead. Even if you only stay for those first few minutes, you’ll enjoy a much better experience than Apollo 18 can muster.
Misfire: from "Apollo 18."
If you haven’t seen it yet this summer, Dark of the Moon (see my review here) opens with a heroic sequence that re-creates the 1969 Apollo 11 Moon landing, as astronauts Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin step onto the surface of the Moon and – unbeknownst to the world – secretly explore a gigantic, mysterious (and seemingly moribund) alien spacecraft. This breathtaking opening flourish, presented in 3D IMAX, is truly one of the inspired moments in the entire Transformers trilogy, and at its conclusion when I saw the film again earlier this week actually touched off a round of applause in the audience – and I will confess to having had some watery eyes, myself.
Like other such moments in Michael Bay’s films – particularly Armageddon and Pearl Harbor – the sequence summons elegiac emotions of pride in America’s bold, pioneering spirit, our legacy of achievement in pushing the boundaries of outer space, of opening new horizons through courage and innovation. That’s what America’s efforts in outer space mean, not the junk the Weinsteins are currently peddling with Apollo 18, a film destined for the bargain bin at your local gas station – tucked somewhere between other Weinstein classics like Mimic 3 and Children of the Corn 5.
If we ever get back to the Moon, or push ahead further to Mars, it certainly won’t be because films like this are inspiring us with a sense of wonder about getting there.
By Joe Bendel. New Yorkers are tough. Since the horrific events of September 11th, the City has weathered blackouts, blizzards, tornadoes, earthquakes, and hurricanes. Still, the lingering trauma of 9-11 dwarfs all subsequent travails. Capturing the physical rebuilding of Ground Zero and the emotional healing of five New Yorkers profoundly affected by the tragedy, director and conceiving producer Jim Whittaker shot almost a thousand hours of footage, resulting in perhaps the first documentary with its own non-profit governance structure: Rebirth, which opens this today in New York at the IFC Center.
Affectionately called “Captain Manhattan,” FDNY Cap. Terry Hatton was already widely regarded as a fireman’s fireman, even before his heroic death during the collapse of Tower 1. For his best friend and colleague Tim Brown, both grief and survivor’s guilt would debilitate his psyche. Yet, despite his depression, we watch as Brown tries to take affirmative steps to prevent such acts of terror in the future, accepting an appointment to the then newly created Department of Homeland Security and serving as an advisor to Mayor Rudy Giuliani’s ill-fated presidential campaign.
Like Brown, Tanya Villanueva Tepper grieves a New York firefighter, her fiancé, but her new life seems to fall so well into place, she starts to feel guilt over her happiness. In contrast, construction worker Brian Lyons has a more difficult recovery process. He also mourns for a FDNY brother, his younger brother, Mike. In addition, his tireless work in the rescue and recovery efforts has left him with persistent health issues and a case of PTSD. Nick Chirls also lost someone close to him: his mother. Unfortunately, a difficult bereavement would lead to an estrangement between Chirls and his father.
Yet, of the five interview subjects, Ling Young is arguably the most compelling. A dutiful state employee at work on the 78th floor at the time of the attack, Young suffered burns so serious, they caused considerable physiological complications. Though her physical healing process remains unresolved, she emerges as the film’s most inspiring figure.
It is hard not to be moved by pain and honesty expressed by Whittaker’s POV figures. However, the time lapse footage of the Ground Zero rebuilding project might ironically prove counterproductive. While it is impressive to see the construction of the transit hub and smaller buildings in fast forward, it is conspicuously obvious that the Freedom Tower has yet to rise triumphantly from the rubble.
To his credit, Whittaker treats his subjects with sensitivity and respect. Still, it seems clear he chose to play it safe at each juncture, glossing past Brown’s reasons for signing on with the Giuliani campaign and including only a brief vent from Chirls directed at moral relativist apologists for the terrorists. Perhaps it is just as well, focusing Rebirth squarely on the personal makes it more immediate and universally relatable, but the gaps still show. After all, what happened in Lower Manhattan was not a random happenstance, but a deliberate act of mass murder motivated by a hateful ideology. Rebirth completely ignores that reality, concentrating solely on the consequences.
In truth, it is a defensible decision, but it requires far more context than that found in Rebirth to fully understand September 11th. Technically, it is also a well-crafted production, with important aesthetic contributions coming from composer Philip Glass and cinematographer Tom Lappin, who gives the oral history portions a warm glossy look. (As an aside, viewers should look for Jon Fein & Brian Danitz’s thematically related documentary Objects and Memory, also boasting a Glass score, when it airs on PBS as part of their ten year anniversary programming). Well intentioned and executed, but clearly determined to avoid controversy, Rebirth opens today (8/31) in New York at the IFC Center.
