The Dark Knight Rises

The Dark Knight Rises - Dir. Christopher Nolan (2012)

"You don't owe these people anymore, you've given them everything."

"Not everything…not yet."

Warning: This is a spoiler heavy review. If you have not seen The Dark Knight Rises, read the relatively spoiler light reviews by Ranjan Pruthee and I at Movie Metropolis.

Christopher Nolan revolutionized the way we think of superhero movies. Just as Richard Donner's Superman made you believe a man could fly, Nolan's Batman films made you believe a man fighting crime dressed as a giant bat could exist in the real world. Nolan's Batman was to the Tim Burton version what Burton's version was to the campy Adam West TV series. Nolan stripped the Bat of his most outlandish elements and grounded it in a gritty, realistic setting. Batman Begins detailed the origin of the Caped Crusader in a manner never seen before on the big screen. Nolan traced every step of Bruce Wayne's arduous journey to becoming the Batman. Its sequel, The Dark Knight, became a massive pop culture event and one of the highest grossing movies of all time. You can thank an unforgettable performance by the late-Heath Ledger as the Joker, Batman's greatest arch-enemy. Dark Knight also succeeded because it didn't look or feel like a typical comic book movie. It was Shakespearean tragedy done in the vein of a neo-noir crime film ala Michael Mann. The bar was set incredibly high for The Dark Knight Rises, the epic conclusion to Nolan's Bat-trilogy.

Eight years after the events of Dark Knight, Gotham City has eradicated the plague of organized crime. A thousand criminals have been locked away without parole thanks to the Harvey Dent Act. The victory has come at a high cost as the Batman accepted the blame for the murderous acts of Gotham's fallen district attorney. The cover-up has eaten away at Commissioner Gordon (Gary Oldman), who is left alone. His wife and children have left him and his staunchest ally has disappeared. Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) has hung up the cape and cowl and retreated back to Wayne Manor amidst rumors of becoming a Howard Hughes-esque shut-in. His time as Batman has taken its toll on his spirit and his body, walking with aid of a cane and mourning the loss of Rachel Dawes.

Before the Batman can fade into the mists of myth and legend, a new evil arrives in Gotham, a masked mercenary known as Bane (Tom Hardy), born and raised in a hellish Middle Eastern prison. Fashioning himself a latter day revolutionary, Bane is the rare foe who is both physically and mentally a match for Batman. Bane isn't cut from the same cloth as the cowardly and superstitious lot our hero generally faces. He draws first blood after hitting the Gotham stock exchange and ruining Bruce Wayne's finances. Bruce is forced to wrest control of Wayne Enterprises with the help of Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman) and Miranda Tate (Marion Cotillard), a new board member who provides him with much needed comfort. As Batman, he must combat Bane's loyal army with the assistance of an earnest beat cop named Blake (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) and Selina Kyle (Anne Hathaway), a slinky thief working her own agenda.

The screenplay by Christopher & Jonathan Nolan (with story credit to David S. Goyer), borrows from several comic book sources such as Knightfall (in which Bane and Batman first do battle), No Man's Land (where Gotham is cut off from the rest of the nation by government order), and Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns (where an aged Batman is forced out of retirement). The latter is fitting since Nolan utilized many elements from Miller's Batman:Year One in his own re-telling of the Caped Crusader's origin. Indeed, Dark Knight Rises brings the series full circle by drawing many parallels to Batman Begins. Much like Bruce Wayne, Bane was trained by Ra's al Ghul (w/ Liam Neeson returning in a brief dream sequence) forcing Batman to battle an old and familiar threat in the League of Shadows. Those familiar with Knightfall will know Bane breaks the Batman's back and then tosses him into the prison, which resembles the family well he fell down as a child. Once again, Bruce must re-train his mind and body for the inevitable rematch.

"And why do we fall, Bruce? So we can learn to pick ourselves up."

I've always considered Christopher Nolan to be the cerebral Michael Bay. Nolan is a master at visual spectacle. We've seen what the director is capable of in Inception with massive cityscapes folding in on themselves and a jaw-dropping scene from Dark Knight involving a somersaulting 18-wheeler. Dark Knight Rises is no different as Nolan uses the IMAX format to its fullest. The film opens with a stunning prologue, done mostly with practical effects, where Bane hijacks a plane in mid-air. There's also a thrilling chase sequence as Gotham Police pursue Batman through the streets and the much ballyhooed implosion of a football field. In addition to the Tumbler and the Bat-Pod, Batman's latest weapon is the Bat, an aerial assault vehicle that glides through the labyrinthine urban landscape.

Nolan's skills as an action director have improved since Batman Begins and the set pieces in Rises are less choppy and more coherent. Nolan imbues his sense of style with a substance ripped out of the headlines. The Dark Knight was all about the Joker shattering the illusion of post-9/11 unity with Batman enacting totalitarian measures by tapping into the city's cell phone signals. In Rises, Bane presents himself as a champion for the oppressed and an enemy of economic inequality. The Nolans draw inspiration from A Tale of Two Cities with Gotham descending into a Dickensian winter under the occupation of Bane's forces. His followers toss the wealthy out of their homes and drag them in front of a kangaroo court headed by Dr. Jonathan Crane (Cillian Murphy) aka The Scarecrow.

These ideas are hammered in by the evolution of Gotham City from the stylized Chicago of the previous picture to an analogue of New York City. Wall Street and the Queensboro Bridge have been transplanted to Gotham with Trump Tower standing in for the headquarters of Wayne Enterprises. Yet, Nolan merely dresses the film up with these heady themes without fully drawing upon them. Sometimes they feel like parlor tricks meant to distract the viewer from obvious plot holes and inconsistencies that creep up once you have allowed the film time to absorb. The Dark Knight ended with the intriguing promise of a Batman shunned by the public he protected, hunted by the police, and once again feared by the criminal underworld as a wanted murderer. Instead, the threequel leaps forward where Bruce Wayne has improbably put Batman out to pasture. Yet, this plot element has its upside. Comic book movies depict the hero at the beginning or the prime of his career and never when his body has broken down. Bruce is forced to wear a high-tech leg brace to compensate for his knee injuries. However, his injuries are quickly forgotten after a clichéd training montage. Also, it doesn't make a lot of sense to transfer Dr. Pavel's blood to the anonymous corpse since the CIA would still be able to check DNA or dental records.

Some might be disappointed that Dark Knight Rises is the closest of the trilogy to a traditional superhero film with a city held hostage and a madman with an Armageddon device. But, is there really anything wrong with that? And when Batman is flying away with the nuke, did anyone else hope he'd say, "Some days you just can't get rid of a bomb."

Christian Bale gives his best performance of the series in Dark Knight Rises, even if he does overdo the growly Bat-voice. Bale has a rich supporting cast to draw from though many of them are criminally underutilized. Michael Caine returns as the steadfast Alfred, who serves as the heart of the film as well as an instrument of clunky exposition. Nolan still has a rough time dealing with exposition without having characters simply standing around and talking at convenient times. To me, it's just as hard to believe Alfred would abandon Bruce as it was when Michael Gough's Alfred let Vicki Vale into the Bat-Cave.

Joseph-Gordon Levitt instills more to the character of Blake than what was written on the page. As we learn in the end, his first name is Robin, Nolan's unique take on the Boy Wonder. Blake is an amalgam of the first three Robins. He's an orphan like Dick Grayson, a hothead like Jason Todd, and possesses a deductive mind like Tim Drake. Blake ultimately feels shoehorned in and his arc would have had more emotional resonance had he been introduced in the preceding installments. Although, these quibbles are remedied by JGL's performance and the money shot of Robin in Bat-Cave as the platform rises before the end credits roll.

Aussie actor Ben Mendelsohn gets to chew scenery as the unscrupulous John Daggett, an executive trying to take control of Wayne Enterprises. The brimming ensemble also includes Brett Cullen as a congressman, Game of Thrones' Aiden Gillen as a CIA Agent, Matthew Modine as one of Gordon's lieutenants, Juno Temple as Selina Kyle's sidekick Holly Robinson, and Thomas Lennon in a funny uncredited cameo as Bruce Wayne's doctor.

The Batman has often been overshadowed by his rogues gallery. Without a doubt, The Dark Knight was anchored by Heath Ledger, who won a posthumous Oscar for his turn as the Joker. Rather than go with a more renowned foe such as the Riddler or the Penguin, Nolan chose Bane, who was once portrayed as a monosyllabic henchman in Joel Schumacher's Batman & Robin. Here, Nolan's interpretation of Bane is akin to a horror movie monster like Michael Myers or Jason Vorhees. He is brought to life in chilling fashion by Tom Hardy, who has played volatile and physically imposing before in Bronson and Warrior. No easy feat as the British thespian's face is hidden throughout the movie by a cumbersome gas mask. Hardy relies entirely on his eyes, body language, and a posh accent that belies his hulking frame. Think Hardy's Patrick Stewart impression from Star Trek: Nemesis meets Darth Vader. He is Bane, the gentleman's terrorist.

"If someone stands in the way of true justice, you simply walk up behind them and stab them in the heart."

The Clown Prince of Crime has stood has as Batman's most infamous archenemy because he is the yin to his yang. Where Batman represents order, Joker represents pure anarchy. He is a self-professed "agent of chaos." Bane is Batman taken to the extreme. Both come from tragic backgrounds. Both have the discipline (and myopic obsession) to train their bodies to peak physical condition. Bane's moral compass, however, points in the opposite direction of the Caped Crusader. He also lacks the support group that Bruce had in his trio of father figures: Alfred, Gordon, and Lucius. Bane is sold as a zealot believing in his own twisted brand of social justice and that's undercut by a third act twist. In the worst kept secret ever, Miranda Tate is revealed to be Talia, the daughter of Ra's al Ghul, with her own obsession to complete her father's work and cleanse Gotham City. Again, we have a child of pain driven by a mission that they are deluded to be in the right. All of Bane's talk of liberation is for naught as he becomes a mooning lapdog to Talia. Talia, a fascinating character from the comics, is played wonderfully by Marion Cotillard. She is alternately a love interest and a formidable antagonist, but her story unfolds in a rushed manner, as if they decided to compress decades of books into a matter of minutes before killing her off.

The most surprising highlight of Dark Knight Rises is Anne Hathaway as Selina Kyle, never once referred to as Catwoman. Many fanboys bemoaned the casting of Hathaway and the look of her costume. Most of them were the same who criticized the casting of Heath Ledger and re-design of the Joker. Naysayers be damned, Hathaway gives this cat some serious claws. She is a strong and sultry femme fatale and brings a necessary injection of fun and wit to Nolan's usually grim and ponderous tone. If I have to make another Star Wars reference, her Catwoman is the Han Solo of Rises, a scoundrel with an ambiguous code of ethics. As for the costume, it works within context of the world Nolan has created. The goggles serve as a high-tech burglary tool while doubling as cat ears. Even her stiletto heels serve as functional offensive weapons. Hathaway is so good that I want to see her in a spin-off. Perhaps, a prequel, Catwoman Begins?

No review of Dark Knight Rises would be complete without mention of the score by Hans Zimmer. If the soundtrack comes off as bombastic and overbearing it is more the fault of Nolan than Zimmer. Nolan does drown out some scenes with the music cranked all the way to eleven. One of the film's best sequences is the initial fight between Bane and Batman with bone breaking body blows serving as the only score. Yet, Zimmer does some of his best work on Rises. He kicks off the prologue on a pitch perfect note with the spooky introductory notes to "Gotham's Reckoning." The composition builds to a crescendo with thunderous drum beats and the ominous chanting of "basara basara deshi deshi."

Yes, you can scrutinize The Dark Knight Rises to death. Or you can sit back and enjoy the visual spectacle that Christopher Nolan has crafted. Epic in scope and grandeur, Dark Knight Rises is a film meant to be seen in theaters on the largest screens possible. This is the grand finale befitting of Nolan's Bat-franchise.

Rating: **** (*****)

Contagion

Contagion - Dir. Steven Soderbergh (2011)

Steven Soderbergh is one of the few filmmakers working today who rarely repeats himself. He is as comfortable at making big Hollywood spectacles like the Ocean's series as he is with idiosyncratic low-budget projects like Bubble and The Girlfriend Experience. He's also delved into film noir in The Good German (one of my favorite films of 2006) and straight out action in the upcoming Haywire. With diseases of the week like Mad Cow, H1N1, SARS, and bird flu constantly making headlines, it appears to be the perfect time for an epidemic movie.

Contagion begins on Day 2 as Beth Ernhoff (Gwyneth Paltrow), an executive with a mining corporation, returning to her home in Minnesota after a business trip in Hong Kong. She's looking worse for wear to which she blames on jetlag. Soon, she collapses on her kitchen floor, foaming at the mouth and going into convulsions. She dies shortly at the hospital to the horror of her husband, Mitch (Matt Damon), who demands answers, but gets none. Beth isn't the only victim as a socialite in London, a businessman in China, and a student in Tokyo all die from this mysterious new disease. This new virus, dubbed MEV-1, is a strain researchers have never encountered before and they struggle to create a cure as millions are infected.

In the vein of Traffic and other hyperlink films, Contagion juggles an all-star cast and a myriad of plotlines. Matt Damon is the emotional core as the everyman just trying to survive after losing not only his wife, but his stepson as well. He takes the role of overprotective father to the extremes as he attempts to shield his teenage daughter, Jory (a strong screen debut by Anna Jacoby-Heron). Laurence Fishburne appears as Dr, Ellis Cheever, the head of the CDC who attempts to contain the disease and public opinion. He is stymied in his efforts by Alan Krumwiede (Jude Law), a hostile blogger who turns sentiment against the government with his conspiracy theories while pushing a holistic cure. Behind the scenes, he's secretly profiting from the manipulated demand.

Soderbergh eschews genre conventions by taking a clinical and procedural approach to the subject matter rather than a sensationalistic approach. Shot in a cold, gray color palette, Contagion deals in the mathematics and hard facts of the outbreak, showing how quickly the virus would spread, the fatalities, and even the harsh realities of how long a vaccine would be distributed. No surprise, if you're not rich and/or white, you're kind of screwed. Expected imagery such as hospital wards filled with sick patients and mass graves appear in Contagion, but Soderbergh shoots them in a nonchalant manner. He is more interested in the minutiae. As MEV-1 spreads through touch, the camera lingers on ordinary objects such as door knobs, credit cards, and a bowl of complimentary peanuts. The mundane aspects of the virus make it all the more frightening, Just as Jaws made you afraid to go in the water, you might not leave the house without sterile gloves and a breathing mask after watching Contagion. The way in which basic services break down is also chilling. Delivery of essential supplies ends when the teamster unions call it quits. Doctors and nurses walk away from their jobs for fear of becoming afflicted. Also, don't bother calling 911. When Mitch tries to call after spotting armed men, he is answered with an automated message. "You have selected regicide. If you know the name of the king or queen being murdered, press 1 now!"

Soderbergh and screenwriter Scott Z. Burns (who also wrote The Informant!) don't get on a soapbox by launching into tirades about government or the pharmaceutical industry. The majority of characters are portrayed on an even keel. Dr. Cheever is an honest though flawed official while members of the military and Homeland Security are shown as folks just trying to do their job. Yet, the bad apples are still present. As the CDC's Dr. Erin Mears, Kate Winslet is forced to deal with bureaucrats who are more concerned about budgets than treating the ill. Looters and rioting are par for the course. There is also an underlying indictment against the rapid rise of global industrialization, another virulent plague striking modern society. I won't spoil the ending, but the fact that a multinational corporation inadvertently causes the catastrophe is something to chew on.

Not all the storylines in Contagion are winners. Law's Krumwiede feels out of place with the docudrama approach of the film. His storyline is meant to symbolize how disinformation and panic are just as contagious as any pathogen, especially in an era where social media has so firmly integrated into the way we live. But, his character is handled in a very cartoonish manner. He has crooked teeth, for goodness sakes. The only thing missing is a handlebar mustache. Blogging is handled in an outdated manner as if the script had been written four or five years ago. Krimwiede loudly proclaims that print media is dead when a paper is dismissive of his findings. There is a wonderfully clever line spoken by Elliot Gould (as a research scientist) when he rebukes that blogging is just "graffiti with punctuation."

Marion Cotillard is also given the shaft as a doctor from the World Health Organization dispatched to Hong Kong to track down the path of the MEV-1. She is later kidnapped by a colleague who is desperate to receive the vaccine for his rural village. Cotillard is only given a short amount of screen time and then disappears for most of the picture until it's convenient to remember she's still around.

Soderbergh has assembled an impressive cast where even the smallest supporting roles are played by actors of note such as Gould and John Hawkes as a janitor at the CDC's headquarters. Damon and Winslet give two of the most stirring performances in the film. Paltrow's time is short. She doesn't even survive the trailer. However, her early death puts the audience on alert that nobody is safe, no matter how famous they are. Ironically, the best performance in Contagion belongs to an actress who isn't as well-known as her colleagues. Jennifer Ehle, who played Geoffrey Rush's wife in The King's Speech, has won rave notices (and deservedly so) for a scientist working tirelessly to develop a cure.

Contagion also features a pulse pounding score from Cliff Martinez, who also composed the synth score for Drive. Throbbing electronic sounds form the backbone of Martinez's music, which will set the view on edge.

As the disease ravages the Earth, populated metropolises give way to desolate urban landscapes reminiscent of a zombie movie. While Contagion has the feel of sci-fi flicks such as Invasion of the Body Snatchers and 28 Days Later, it is an ultra-realistic, post-9/11 version of Outbreak. Contagion is creepy, enthralling, and will certainly skyrocket sales in Purell.

Rating: *** ½ (*****)

Midnight in Paris

Midnight in Paris - Dir. Woody Allen (2011)

Woody Allen remains one of the most prolific American filmmakers working today. At the age of 75, Allen still manages to write and direct a new film every year, even if they aren’t as critically acclaimed as those of the past. Every so often, he’ll craft a picture (Match Point, Vicky Cristina Barcelona) that will have movie buffs clamoring about how it’s a welcome return to form for the man behind works like Hannah and Her Sisters and Crimes and Misdemeanors. Midnight in Paris is just such a film, capturing the wit that was once Allen's trademark. More importantly, Midnight in Paris is simply a flat out fun experience, which is not a description that is generally used in discussing a Woody Allen movie.

The plot has largely been kept a secret. Judging by the trailers and advertisements, Midnight in Paris would seem to be no different than anything else Woody Allen has made. However, there is an incredibly clever plot twist that I hesitate to reveal because the surprise is part of the fun. Yet, I don't think I would have rushed out to see the movie if I hadn't learned about it. Plus, it's difficult to review the film without mentioning it so…

SPOILER WARNING!!!

Midnight in Paris begins in a similar fashion to Manhattan with a jazzy montage of the gorgeous sights to be found in Paris. We meet Owen Wilson as Allen's stand-in, Gil Pender, a self-described hack screenwriter of innocuous Hollywood fare. He is visiting the City of Lights with his fiancée Inez (Rachel McAdams) and her parents (Kurt Fuller & Mimi Kennedy). Gil is excited about the possibilities that await him as he works on his novel about a man who works in a nostalgia shop. He waxes poetic about rain soaked streets and Paris as a cultural haven for the greatest artists of the 20th century. But, Inez and her folks haven't a romantic bone in their body. They are stuffy conservatives constantly clashing with Gil's more Bohemian interests. The final straw for Gil is the arrival of Inez's friend, Paul (Michael Sheen), a pedantic and pompous professor more than happy to show off how much smarter he is than everybody else.

To escape Paul's hot air, Gil decides to take a nightly stroll through the cobbled streets of Paris. He winds up lost on some innocent-looking street corner when the clock strikes midnight and a vintage car pulls up and whisks Gil away to what he thinks is an elaborate costume party. Wait, did somebody say this shindig is for Jean Cocteau? And the guy playing the piano sure resembles Cole Porter. Yes, Gil has been magically transported to the 1920's where he's greeted by Zelda and F. Scott Fitzgerald (Alison Pill & Tom Hiddleston). Next thing you know, he's sitting in a bar with Ernest Hemingway (Corey Stoll), who promises to show Gil's manuscript to Gertrude Stein (Kathy Bates).

Each night Gil escapes the drudgery of his shrewish paramour and her insufferable clan to converse with T.S. Elliot ("Prufrock is my mantra!") and dance the Charleston with Djuna Barnes. Gil's predicament is so surreal that he can only discuss it with the surrealists Luis Bunuel, Man Ray, and Salvador Dali (Adrien Brody). In one of many gags that will have viewers rushing to check Wikipedia, Gil pitches Bunuel the concept for The Exterminating Angel, which only befuddles the soon-to-be famed filmmaker ("Why don't they just get up and leave?"). Not all the jokes are so esoteric. When Gil hears Stein has purchased a Matisse for a mere 500 francs, he asks if he can also pick up six or seven.

Gil finds himself falling in love with Adriana (Marion Cotillard), a beautiful muse/mistress to artistic giants like Modigliani and the pioneers of Cubism, Picasso and Braque. Adriana, in turn, wishes she could have been alive during La Belle Epoque. Sure enough, a horse-drawn carriage whisks them away to 1890's where they watch can-can dancers with Gauguin, Degas, and Toulouse-Lautrec. A perfect Woody Allen moment occurs when Gil complains they are in an era before the invention of antibiotics.

Owen Wilson's Gil may act as a surrogate for Allen in the sense of being a creative soul caught in a stifling environment, but he is far less neurotic than the typical Allen protagonist. Wilson melds the character with his own laid-back persona and trademark drawl. Michael Sheen is also fantastic as the appallingly arrogant scholar who annoyingly prefaces his sentences with phrases like, "If I'm not mistaken," or "I believe…," as if he were attempting to hedge his bets. He is the vainglorious pseudo-intellectual Allen has enthusiastically skewered numerous times, most famously in Annie Hall. You half expect Marshall McLuhan to be pulled into the scene to refute every ridiculous thing Paul says. Rachel McAdams isn't given much to do as a one-note character. It's a cheat on Allen's part to put Inez and Gil together because it doesn't make any sense why these two would ever be together. Then again, it doesn't make any sense that a man could travel back in time via a Peugeot. A DeLorean, maybe…

The real stars of Midnight in Paris are the who's who of actors brought on to play the who's who of artistic giants. Allen makes no attempt to accurately depict these people. They are broadly drawn caricatures filtered through decades of pop culture. Alison Pill is the flighty flapper we imagine Zelda Fitzgerald to be. Tom Hiddleston (in a complete 180 from Loki) doesn't have much screen time as the author of The Great Gatsby though hints of the Fitzgeralds tempestuous marriage seep through. Adrien Brody is delightfully over-the-top as an exceedingly eccentric Dali. His offer to sketch Gil involves a rhinoceros, a teardrop, and the face of Christ. Brody definitely makes a better Dali than the pretty boy from Twilight. Corey Stoll, by a wide margin, gives the best performance in the film as Hemingway. He speaks the way he writes, in terse, blustery sentences about masculine subjects like hunting, war, and death.

Midnight in Paris is a wankfest for English Lit and Art History majors and I mean that in the most complimentary way. Allen has created a clever and vibrant romp akin to The Purple Rose of Cairo with its blurring of reality and fantasy. It is a modern-day fairy tale that embraces nostalgia, but only in moderation. This refuting is ironic considering Allen's own proclivities have been less than contemporary. The past may be a nice place to visit, but you wouldn't want to live there.

Rating: *** ½ (*****)

Inception

Inception - Dir. Christopher Nolan (2010)


”You mustn’t be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling.”

Christopher Nolan certainly wasn’t afraid to dream big. Originally pitched to Warner Brothers back in 2002, Nolan spent almost eight years developing the intricate $200 million action-thriller, Inception. Nolan applies the blockbuster approach of The Dark Knight with the mindfuck methodology of earlier films like Memento to this high concept take on the heist movie.

Leonardo DiCaprio stars as Dom Cobb, a world-class thief who has taken corporate espionage to a new plane of existence. He doesn’t break into bank vaults, he breaks into dreams. Known as “Extraction,” Cobb hooks his slumbering victims to a Matrix in a suitcase in order to steal their deepest secrets or sacred ideas. Cobb and his right-hand man, Arthur (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), have failed their latest extraction on wealthy businessman Saito (Ken Watanabe). However, Saito is impressed enough that he hires them for the impossible task of “Inception,” where an idea is planted into someone else’s mind.

The mark is Robert Fischer (Cillian Murphy), who will inherit an energy conglomerate from his dying father (Pete Postlewaite). Saito wants the son to break up his company thereby preventing a near-monopoly that would squeeze out Saito’s own corporation.

So Cobb assembles his team consisting of Arthur; Yusuf (Dileep Rao), a chemist who is an expert at sedatives; Eames (Tom Hardy), a forger who impersonates others inside the dream; and newcomer Ariadne (Ellen Page), an architect charged with crafting the world of the dream. Nolan gets a little playful in naming her after the character from Greek mythology who led Theseus out of the labyrinth of the Minotaur.

Sharing dreams with Cobb, Ariadne discovers the dangers that have leaked out of his subconscious. Cobb is a wanted fugitive who has left behind his children by fleeing the States. His troubles stem from the death of his wife Mal (Marion Cotillard). She lives on in his mind, but twisted by his own guilt, she attempts to kill Cobb and his team at every turn.

The second act of Inception follows the formula of other con game movies like The Sting or Ocean’s Eleven. The team plan and practice their scheme. The third act involves creating a multi-layered dream world to ensnare their target. These dream worlds aren’t as surreal as the ones seen in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. It’s less Charlie Kaufman and more Michael Mann with a dash of M.C. Escher. The movie isn’t nearly as confusing as one would expect. Nolan helpfully provides more than enough exposition to keep everything clear. Therein lays the film’s biggest weakness.

The majority of the dialogue is entirely functional in that characters are simply explaining things to each other. As the eager newcomer, Ariadne serves as a stand-in for the audience. She’s there to be introduced into Cobb’s world so that we are as well. It feels a bit insulting for Nolan to hold everyone’s hand at each step. We don’t really get to know any of the characters beyond the genre archetypes of fresh-faced rookie or nerdy tech guy. One of the film’s best scenes is a quickie involving Arthur stealing a kiss from Ariadne. It’s a rare moment in which the characters are allowed to simply be themselves.

The strengths of Inception lie in its original concept and spectacular visuals. Nolan is like the cerebral Michael Bay. He’s a master at creating widescreen spectacle, yet there is substance to the style. There are some amazing images to be found here, from a crumbling cityscape to a Parisian boulevard that is literally folded in half. Nolan still struggles with crafting coherent action sequences. A car chase through the rainy streets of downtown L.A. isn’t nearly as thrilling as the chase from The Dark Knight and a James Bond-esque battle at a snowy fortress is disorienting. On the other hand, a gravity defying fist fight in a hotel hallway is well done. Nolan and long-time editor, Lee Smith, deftly intercut the various dream layers during the climax. Neither are Nicholas Roeg, but they get the job done.

The ensemble cast is excellent all around with Tom Hardy and Joseph Gordon-Levitt providing a pair of great supporting performances. Ignoring G.I. Joe, Gordon-Levitt is easily at the top of the heap when it comes to young actors working today. Watch him in this along with Brick and The Lookout, if you don’t believe me. For the second time in a row, DiCaprio plays a tortured widower. He’s the glue that holds the film together, playing well with the other actors. The exceedingly gorgeous Marion Cotillard is pitch perfect as the film’s femme fatale. If DiCaprio is the Batman of Inception, then Cotillard is his Catwoman. You know, I wouldn’t mind seeing Cotillard in black leather leotards and cracking a bullwhip. Either by coincidence or design, Nolan throws in a nod to her Oscar-winning turn in La Vie en Rose by utilizing Edith Piaf’s “Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien” at a key moment.

After suffering through the inane schlock of last year (Transformers: ROTF), it’s refreshing to see that 2010 has brought us films like Green Zone and Inception, action dramas with a brain. Inception does get bogged down with exposition, but it’s saved by a great cast and stunning visuals. Even with a runtime of 148 minutes, it moves at a brisk pace. It is definitely the shortest 2 and a half hour movie I’ve ever seen.

Rating: *** ½

Nine

Nine - Dir. Rob Marshall (2009)


9 was the lucky number for movies in 2009. There were the stop-motion animated films $9.99 and 9 as well as the sci-fi flick District 9. Now to close out the year, there’s Nine, a star-studded musical from the director of Chicago, Rob Marshall. Nine is the movie version of the hit Broadway musical which itself was based on Federico Fellini’s self-reflexive and most personal film 8 ½. Marshall’s Nine lacks any and all of Fellini’s complexities and is simply an empty exercise in style.

Marcello Mastroianni essentially played Fellini in 8 ½, a renowned director who struggles to complete his next film. In the original 1982 Broadway production, Raul Julia took on the role which was inherited to Antonio Banderas in the revival. Javier Bardem was originally cast until he dropped out and was replaced by out of left field choice Daniel Day-Lewis. Critics have been polarized over the casting of the British Oscar winning, debating whether or not he makes a convincing Italian. I say he did fine and he has a damn good singing voice, but his talents are largely unutilized. Day-Lewis doesn’t do much more than look sullen as movie director Guido Contini.

Following a string of flops, Contini’s next film is ready to go into production, but the “maestro” hasn’t written a single page of the script. Along with his creative funk, Contini deals with a web of romantic entanglements. There’s his wife Luisa (Marion Cotillard looking like Audrey Hepburn), his sultry mistress Carla (Penelope Cruz), his leading lady Claudia Jenssen (Nicole Kidman in full Anita Ekberg mode), and an American reporter (Kate Hudson). The bevy of beauties also includes Sophia Loren as his mother, the Black Eyed Peas’ Fergie as an Earthy prostitute from Contini’s childhood, and Judi Dench as Lili, Contini’s costume designer and confidant.

As with Chicago, Marshall weaves the song and dance numbers into the narrative as fantasy sequences. These are big showy productions with the film’s lovely starlets bumping and grinding in skimpy outfits. There’s plenty of gorgeous scenery to be had, but the plot is aimless. Worst yet, the whole reason to see a musical, the music, is largely forgettable. Out of the many numbers in Nine, not a single one stuck in my mind or had me humming it as I left the theater. I will say that I didn’t expect Nicole Kidman, Kate Hudson or Penelope Cruz to have such good singing voices. Marion Cotillard, who already showed off her pipes as Edith Piaf in La Vie en Rose, gives the strongest performance in the film, both acting and singing-wise. She has a soulfulness to her that’s sorely needed even when she’s belting bland tunes like, "My Husband Makes Movies."

As a red-blooded male, I can’t say as I didn’t enjoy seeing Kate Hudson shaking her hips or Penelope Cruz writhing around in lingerie.

Rating: **