THE MARTIAN (2015)
If “Gravity”
ventured into the unfathomable vastness of space and “Interstellar” explored
the mind-boggling time-space continuum, “The Martian,” despite its title,
remains relatively down to earth.
In some ways,
the Ridley Scott-directed film goes too far in breaking down the process of
space travel, surviving on Mars, launching a rescue mission; the magic, the
awe, gets lost in all the astonishingly inventive science.
It begins
when a Mars exploration team must quickly leave the planet to escape a powerful
storm. In the chaos on the planet’s surface, astronaut Mark Watney (a perfectly
cast Matt Damon) is left behind and presumed dead. But when the dust clears,
Watney has survived, but with little hope for the long run.
After dealing
with a piece of satellite antenna that impaled him, he must face the limits of
food rations that won’t last until a rescue mission can be launched. At the
same time, back in Houston, NASA chief Teddy Sanders (a commanding Jeff
Daniels) and Mars project manager Vincent Kapoor (Chiwetel Ejiofor from “12
Years a Slave”) announced the death of Watney and deal with the political
damage the loss will inflict on the program. Then, a few weeks later, a NASA
tech notices some movement around the Mars station, indicating that Watney is
still alive.
The movie
shuttles back and forth between botanist Watney (he seems a little too
perfectly suited to be stranded on Mars) as he finds ways to survive and the
world-class engineers at JPL, who are up to every impossible task NASA chiefs
demand of them.
In an era when
the value of scientific expertise is constantly being undermined and devalued,
it’s good to see a film that presents them as heroes.
The third rail
of the film involves the crew of the Hermes, en route back to Earth, who are
left in the dark when all the excitement about Watney takes place. When they
reenter the picture, mission leader Lewis (Jessica Chastian, of course) proves
herself a worthy heir to the original female space hero Ripley, from Scott’s
“Alien” (1979).
By emphasizing
the very diverse JPL and having China’s space program contribute to the rescue,
the script, by Drew Goddard from Andy Weir’s novel, makes its underlining point
that if we are to survive on our planet (with Mars and Damon as the symbolic
stand-ins) all the world’s people will need to work together, each doing their
part to rescue Earth.
While “The
Martian” never soars in the ways the space films from the last two years did,
this well-oiled, immaculately produced picture—exactly what we have come to
expect from Scott—is a crowd-pleasing piece of classic cinematic storytelling,
showcasing the resilience, determination and know-how we like to think is
distinctly American.
BRIDGE OF SPIES (2015)
If there is
anything I’ve learned after nearly 40 years of steady movie-going, it’s that a
fascinating storyline, a huge budget, a great director and a first-rate cast
increases a film’s chance of being exceptional only slightly. That’s what makes
the cinema so frustrating and, when it’s good, so rewarding.
This Steven
Spielberg picture, starring no less than Tom Hanks, about a little-known lawyer
who brokers one of the key spy trades of the Cold War, seemed aligned for
greatness.
Alas, for
reasons not easy to explain, the impressive production falls short, failing to
capture the intensity of the times (late 50s, early 60s) or the historical
significance of the events.
Hanks plays
James Donovan, an insurance litigator recruited by the U.S. government to
represent a suspected Soviet spy, Rudolf Abel, portrayed by a film-stealing
Mark Rylance, in what amounts to a show trail. Donovan quickly discovers that
American justice loses its interest in fairness in the shadow of the “Soviet
threat.” It is hard not to notice the story’s parallels to our current war on
terrorism excuses for usurping the Constitution.
The jailhouse
meetings between Donovan and Abel are the best scenes of the film, as Rylance
plays this taciturn prisoner as a measured, loyal, intelligent man who is
willing to accept whatever punishment the U.S. chooses to enact. Ryance, one of
the most esteemed actors of the British stage, is probably best known in this
country for his role as Cromwell in the English TV import “Wolf Hall.” He also
played the father in “The Other Boylan Girl” (like “Wolf Hall,” a Henry VIII
story), and will star in Spielberg’s next film, “The BFG,” based on Roald
Dahl’s children’s story.
The meat of
“Bridge of Spies” begins when the Soviets seek Abel’s return, possibly in exchange
for Francis Gary Powers, a U.S. pilot shot down over Russia while on a spy
mission. For those under 50, the Powers incident was one of the touchstone
events of the Cold War, a high-profile story in large part because the Soviets
used Powers as a propaganda tool. His very existence showed a rather naïve
American public that all sides were actively spying on each other. (Little did
we imagine the extremes of that spying—see “CitizenFour” below.)
Because the spy
swap needed to be done very unofficially, the CIA asked that Donovan go the
East Berlin and make the arrangements. Turns out, the hand-over is more
complicated that it sounded.
Central to
the film’s problems is that Spielberg seems uncertain as to what kind of movie
he wants to make. In many scenes, especially once Donovan arrives in Germany,
the dialogue and acting turns it into a Coen Brother satire (Ethan and Joel had
a hand in the scripting) while at other times it strives, and mostly fails, as
a serious commentary on the American view of justice and the cold realities of
war.
Too many scenes
drag on for two or three minutes longer than necessary (seeming a minor
complaint, but it turns what might have been a crisp 1:45 film into a laborious
2:25). Hanks, stretching himself a bit, ping-pongs between projecting Donovan
as a hard-nosed negotiator and an “innocent abroad,” which doesn’t help the
inconstant tone of the picture.
I’m sure this
will garner Spielberg his eighth Oscar nomination for directing and maybe score
a best picture nod; it has the sheen of Oscar bail, not unlike last year’s
equally by-the-numbers historical picture, “The Imitation Game.” But this is
second-rate Spielberg—not a bad place to be—that offers crisp, straightforward
storytelling but never captures that tick-tock pressure that defined the Cold
War.
THE ASPHALT JUNGLE
(1950)
For movie fans of a certain age, iconoclastic
director John Huston will always be remembered for his early classics, “The
Maltese Falcon” (1941), “The Treasure of the Sierra Madre” (1948) and “The
African Queen” (1951), along with his final three pictures, “Under the Volcano”
(1984), “Prizzi’s Honor” (1985) and “The Dead” (1987), all made after he turned
77.
For 50 years,
he was one of America’s best-known filmmakers, the son of and father to actors
(and a superb actor himself), whose writing skills and ability to get the best
out of his performers resulted in more than 20 exceptional motion pictures.
Beyond making
memorably entertaining films, Huston, compared to his contemporaries, almost
always made uncompromisingly adult movies, ones that presented characters and
their life in the harsh light of reality. Because of that temperament, most of
his films don’t require any special dispensation to enjoy today; the Hollywood
dream machine or dated sentimentality rarely crept into a Huston picture.
In other
hands, “The Asphalt Jungle” would have been just a B-level crime film, a
shadowy tale of corruption, petty criminals and desperate men so familiar in
post-war film noir. Yet the hand of the master, along with an almost perfect
cast and some of the best black-and-white cinematography ever achieved,
transform the film into the ultimate heist film, the model of using the crime
world as a study of men’s weaknesses
The film opens
in the early morning as a police car cruises the empty streets of the city,
then, getting a report of a robbery, pick up small-time thief Dix Handley (a
brooding Sterling Hayden, at his best). But at the police lineup, his intense
stare scares the witness, who realizes he “can’t” identify him.
It’s Dix’s
story we are drawn into, especially as he waxes nostalgic about his boyhood in
Kentucky to Doll (Jean Hagen), a broken, sad women who attaches herself to Dix.
At the same
time, Doc (a steely Sam Jaffe), an ex-con with a heavy German accent, visits a
well-connected local hood (crime film regular Marc Lawrence) to pitch his idea
for a jewelry heist that could be worth a million dollars. They bring the idea
to Emmerich, a “legitimate” businessman (Louis Calhern), who, unbeknownst to
them, is both broke and trying to support his very young mistress (Marilyn
Monroe in her first important role), which leads him to make plans to double-cross
Doc and his team.
Dix is
brought into the plan as the muscle (they refer to him as a “hooligan”) and
then, after the successful heist, accompanies Doc to Emmerich’s for the hand-off.
There, a downward spiral begins for everyone.
Having not
seen the film in a few decades, I was most impressed with the quality of
acting—probably better than any film noir of the era. Every performance is
riveting, from the stars Hayden, Calhern, Hagen and Jaffe (who earned an Oscar
nomination) to those with small supporting parts, including Brad Dexter, as a
cool, intense associate of Emmerich; Monroe, authentically sexy before
Hollywood turned her into a caricature; and James Whitmore, the loyal friend to
Dix.
Then there is
the camera work of veteran cinematographer Harold Rosson, masterful in every
scene, utilizing almost no nature light, often shooting in pitch black. Rosson shoots
most of the scenes in close quarters—the walls and ceiling seems to be closing
in on the actors—framing the actors in much tighter shots than a typical film
of the time. Huston’s skill as a director of individual scenes has never been
better displayed.
Rosson, a
filmmaking pioneer, began shooting films in 1915 and worked continually for the
next 50 years, often working on a half-dozen films a year. His best known
credits are “The Wizard of Oz” and “Singin’ in the Rain.”
The script, by
Huston and Ben Maddow from W.R. Burnett’s novel, is filled with tough-guy
jargon and sad ruminations on life. And it doesn’t let anyone off the hook;
pointedly, the most dishonest characters in the film are businessman Emmerich
and a police detective.
Huston moved on
from film noir after “The Asphalt Jungle,” which is our loss, as he clearly had
special insight into these types of characters and this milieu.
At one point,
Dix reveals a spark of hope, telling Doll, “The way I figure, my luck just
gotta turn.” But we know he never had any luck and never will. None of these
characters do. Yet, the inevitability of their doom somehow makes them so much
more interesting than the typical Hollywood character who somehow finds love,
success, redemption at the end of the story. John Huston understood that, which
makes his films worth returning to again and again.
STEVE JOBS (2015)
Like the
original Macintosh computer—Steve Jobs’ entry into the cultural landscape—this
movie about the arrogant, demanding and much admired entrepreneur doesn’t offer
enough outlets to succeed with the public.
Essentially,
this is a one-man show, a play in three acts during which Michael Fassbender
offers a tour-de-force performance of someone named Steve Jobs. Many have
disputed how much of the portrayal is actually Jobs and how much is the
invention of screenwriter Aaron Sorkin (“The Social Network,” “Moneyball”).
As I’ve
written before in this post, if you are seeking an accurate recounting of the
details of a life don’t look toward the cinema. But for an understanding of the
gist of a life, an over-dramatized telling that represents a piece of the
truth, then you’ve arrived at the right medium.
That said, I
still don’t think much of the film named “Steve Jobs.” By setting each segment
(1984/1988/1998) backstage minutes before the launch of a Jobs product, the
film shows the character only at his most stressful, interacting with most of
the same people. This narrow approach is counterproductive to shaping any type
of profile.
Like all Sorkin
scripts (he also penned “Charlie Wilson’s War” and TV’s “The West Wing”), the
dialogue is fast-paced, cutting, wickedly smart—no screenwriter has been better
at presenting thoughtful professionals talking to one another since Paddy
Chayefsky (“Network,” “The Hospital”). About 75 percent of the film is Jobs
complaining and consulting with longtime assistant Joanna Hoffman, who, as
played superbly by Kate Winslet, proves to be a strong foil for the
often-childish Jobs. It’s one of this actress’ most impressive performances as
she completely disappears into the role. Seriously: I did not recognize her
until about two minutes into the film; I kept thinking, “Who is this
actress?”
Director
Danny Boyle (“Slumdog Millionaire,” “127 Hours”) does an excellent job of
keeping the film energetic, despite the enclosed set (nearly as claustrophobic
as “Birdman”) and rigid structure, which, I assume, was set by Sorkin’s script.
Beyond the
structure of the movie, I was put off by the excessive time and emotions
devoted to Jobs unsettled relationship with his first daughter, whose paternity
he denies at first, and her eccentric mother.
It’s meant to show his heartlessness and eventual softening—his
evolving—but it felt forced, especially when his wife and other children are
not only absent but never even mentioned.
Since his
coming out party in Quentin Tarantino’ s ”Inglourious Basterds” just six years
ago, Fassbender has quickly risen on the list of in-demand actors. Along with
offering complex, intense performances as a sex addict in “Shame,” a heartless
slave owner in “12 Years a Slave” and a eccentric rock ‘n’ roll singer in
“Frank,” he has joined “The X-Men” and will portray Shakespeare’s Scottish king
later this year in “Macbeth.”
But his searing
performance as Jobs, whether he represents the real man or Sorkin’s imaginary
version, almost made me like this disjointed, shrill picture.
In addition,
excellent work is turned in by Seth Rogen as Apple cofounder Steve Wozniak,
Michael Shuhlbarg as put-upon engineer Andy Hertzfeld and Jeff Daniels as John
Sculley, the CEO of Apple who forces Jobs out when the highly touted Mac
fails.
One of the
producers, or maybe Boyle, after seeing the script, should have smiled at
Sorkin and reminded him that they were making a movie not an off-Broadway play.
And, by the way, can you throw the iPhone in there somewhere?
CITIZENFOUR (2014)
If you already
feel a bit paranoid about the sanctity of your privacy, do yourself a favor and
avoid this documentary. Not to be dramatic, but if you believe privacy to be
integral to freedom, then the “Land of the Free” has left the building.
This is the
rare documentary that doesn’t need to recreate events, use after-the-fact
interviews or rely on archival footage. Director Laura Poitras was on the
ground floor of one of the biggest stories of the past decade: Edward Snowden’s
2013 release of classified information gathered by the U.S. government through
its worldwide wiretapping.
Anonymously,
the National Security Agency contractor, under the codename Citizen Four,
contacted the filmmaker (she previous made documentaries on the war on terror
and the Iraqi war) to help him publish the massive collection of private
conversations he illegally downloaded from government computers. Not only did
he want the world to know what the U.S. was up to, but he also hoped to
embarrass the government into halting the spy programs.
Along with British journalist Glenn Greenwald
from The Guardian, she interviewed and filmed the mild-mannered, apprehensive
Snowden in a Hong Kong hotel room.
Immediately,
the revelations about the extent of phone tapping—virtually all phone calls
made by U.S. citizens—become banner headlines around the world, leading to
Congressional hearings and mea culpas from the White House.
The other
aspect of the story and documentary is the government’s attempt to arrest and
prosecute Snowden for releasing classified documents.
While Snowden
initially seems ready to accept whatever punishment his actions brought—willingly
sacrificing his freedom so that Americans could know the truth about their
government—he soon changes his stand.
When the
Justice Department charged him with espionage (an over-reach by most accounts),
he went into hiding, foolishly accepting the protection of Russia—not exactly
stalwarts of freedom—where he remains.
While Snowden deserves
praise as a whistleblower on a practice that clearly violated the Constitution
and, at least, needed to be fully debated by the country, he also should have
been willing to face the consequences. Seeking asylum from Mr. Putin wasn’t the
smartest political move Snowden could have made.
The Oscar-winning
film becomes repetitive in stretches as we watch Snowden sit on a bed in the
hotel room answering the journalist’s questions. The film can also be numbing
in its reliance on computer/government jargon. Yet this chilling documentary’s first-hand,
news-as-it-happens report chronicling a crucial issue of our time overcomes its
artistic lackings.
And the news is
quite clear: Under the protection of fighting terrorism, governments will
inevitably push, as technology grows in sophistication, the rights of the
individual to its limits. It becomes a question of how much privacy Americans are
willing to relinquish to the cause of national security.
Despite some occasional outbursts of outrage,
it seems to me that the ship has sailed (with the generous help of our
phone/computer carriers). The once horrific idea of Big Brother is now greeted
with a shrug.
THE INTERN (2015)
Even while
suspecting that I’d already seen the best jokes after a half-dozen viewings of
the trailer, I couldn’t resist this film. In fact, Robert De Niro, as Ben
Whittaker, a 70-year-old intern who shows that old-school experience has a
place at a young, hip internet startup, is thoroughly entertaining from start
to finish even as the film becomes more and more tedious.
Anne
Hathaway plays Jules Ostin, a Type-A founder and CEO whose clothing mail order
firm takes precedence over her husband and young daughter. (If you watch much
Lifetime or Hallmark, you know the plotline). Though she initially has no time
for her new “senior intern” (a program thought up by one of her managers), when
Ben ends up taking over as her driver he quickly becomes essential to her life,
making it his job to ease her stress.
I stopped
counting the cliches after the first 15 minutes and never had the slightest
interest in Jules situation with her family or her search for an outsider to
take over CEO duties (pushed by her investors). Unlike writer-director Nancy
Meyers’ “It’s Complicated,“ where the older folks are front and center, here
she only uses Senior De Niro as the wise counsel in Jules’ story.
I would have
much rather seen more of Ben’s courting of the company masseuse (Renee Russo),
his hi-jinks with the younger staff members (a highlight is Ben and the boys
breaking and entering a home—for a good cause) and how this experience and his
relationship with Jules changes his life.
I could relate
to Ben as he gains a bounce to his step after being surrounded by the energy of
youth, finding emotional reward in lending a helping hand and offering a sympathetic
ear. But “The Intern” has no interest in going down that less traveled
plotline, preferring to play it safe with time-worn familiarity.
BLACK MASS (2015)
While I don’t
think the movie-going public was clamoring for a second version of the Whitey
Burger story, this portrayal, sticking closer to the facts, makes for
compelling cinema. I dare say, it’s nearly equal to Martin Scorsese’s 2006 Oscar
winning fictionalized look at the Boston mobster, “The Departed.”
Johnny Depp,
finally in a role worthy of his acting talents, plays James “Whitey” Bulger
with a bit too much makeup (as if many filmgoers know what Bulger looks like)
but the perfect combination of charming local legend, charismatic leader and
psychotic killer. At the center of the film, like “The Departed,” is the
dangerous game played by local FBI agent John Connelly, played here by Joel
Edgerton (Matt Damon in Scorsese’s film), who thinks he can advance his
legitimate career while helping Bulger take a stronger hold on Boston
crime.
Edgerton,
who was weirdly robotic as Tom in “The Great Gatsby,” nails the kind of
brown-nosing sycophant who imagines himself everyone’s pal when in fact he’s
barely tolerated. As he enriches himself by handing Whitey the city on a
platter, he somehow manages to placate his suspicious FBI boss (Kevin Bacon)
with the occasional inside information. It’s a classic tale, nearly
Shakespearian, of a man who sells his soul so he can be “one of the guys,” part
of something he’s admired since he was a boy.
Scott Cooper,
whose previous films were “Crazy Heart,” which earned Jeff Bridges his Oscar,
and the moody rustbelt drama, “Out of the Furnace,” isn’t much of a stylist,
but does capture the inner-city rot of the 1970s and ‘80s and clearly knows how
to get the most out his of actors.
Also
giving fine performances in the film are Benedict Cumberbatch (is he in
everything?) as Whitey brother, amazingly, a Massachusetts’ state senator at
the time; Julianne Nicholson as Connelly’s distressed wife; David Harbour as
Connelly’s reluctant FBI partner; and Corey Stoll, who continues to give superb
supporting performances (“Midnight in Paris,” Netflix’s “House of Cards”) as
the DA who finally delivers Connelly’s comeuppance.
There’s
nothing in “Black Mass” fans of organized crime films haven’t seen
before—ritual killings, entrapping traitors, enjoying the illicit riches—but
the toxic mixture of the FBI double-agent and the unrelenting Bulger makes for
an intensely entertaining picture,
For those who
don’t follow the news, Whitey slipped away before Boston authorities could grab
him (if they were even trying) and wasn’t captured until years later, in 2011,
in California. The 86-year-old will spend what’s left of his life in prison.
