The Homesman

The Homesman - Dir. Tommy Lee Jones (2014)

Judging by outward appearances, Tommy Lee Jones doesn't seem to be a jolly old fellow. No surprise that Jones has chosen rather dour material for his directorial efforts. His first film as director, The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada, was a somber modern-day Western about a rancher making his way to Mexico with the corpse of a ranch hand and the Border Agent who killed him. You could hardly call Jones' sophomore feature, The Homesman, a traditional Western. Sure, the period is appropriate, but white hats don't shoot it out with black hats and the hero doesn't triumphantly ride off into the sunset.

The Homesman takes place during the mid-1800's in the desolate territory now known as Nebraska. Life has been harsh, especially for three women driven insane by the rigors of the frontier and an overbearing patriarchal society. Arabella Sours (Grace Gummer) hasn't even hit her 20's and has already lost her three children to diphtheria. Gro Svendsen (Sonja Richter) went mad due to the death of her mother and repeated sexual abuse by her husband. Theoline Bellknapp (Miranda Otto) suffered such a nervous breakdown that she does something unthinkable. In the movie's most harrowing moment, Theoline stumbles towards an outhouse and tosses her newborn infant into the latrine.

The burgeoning town is hardly equipped to handle this pitiable trio, but a church in Iowa has agreed to care for them. When it's clear their husbands are either unable or unwilling to take them, Mary Bee Cuddy (Hilary Swank) volunteers to embark on the journey. Perhaps, she feels a kinship to these women as she hides her own crushing loneliness. Cuddy is 31 and unwed, making her a spinster in everyone's eyes. She's been sharply turned down for marriage because she's too "bossy" and too "plain."

As strong-willed as she is, Mary Bee knows she cannot make the trip on her own. Due to happenstance, she comes across George Briggs (Jones), a buffoonish claim jumper left to hang. Briggs agrees not so much out of chivalry, but to get out of the noose along with $300 and a jug of whiskey.

The Homesman was based on a novel by Glendon Swarthout, who also wrote The Shootist, which was adapted into a film starring a grizzled John Wayne in what would be his final role. Of course, Jones brings grizzled to a whole new level. He's not exactly the most amiable of travel partners. The prim and proper Mary Bee does not end up falling for the gruff Briggs the way Katherine Hepburn did with Bogart in The African Queen. In fact, The Homesman never goes where you expect. The protagonists and their charges are outsiders in a rigid culture. They don't find redemption, happiness or sanity.

Jones turns in a fine performance that goes beyond his trademark surliness. He is able to go to dark place while playing the buffoon. Swank's success ratio hasn't been that spectacular, but her work in The Homesman ranks right up there with Million Dollar Baby and her breakout role in Boys Don't Cry. It's a fierce and heartbreaking performance.

The Homesman has been called an anti-western and a feminist revision of the genre. Jones' sophomore effort certainly has more in common with the existentialism of McCabe and Mrs. Miller and the beautiful bleakness of No Country for Old Men. He unravels the romanticism of the Old West by presenting its ugliness without restraint. One of the more underrated films of 2014.

Rating: *** ½ (*****)

The Iron Lady

The Iron Lady - Dir. Phyllida Lloyd (2011)

Meryl Streep has earned an unparalleled seventeen Academy Award nominations while taking home the gold statuette for Kramer vs. Kramer and Sophie's Choice. It seemed a foregone conclusion that Streep would win a third Oscar for her performance as Margaret Thatcher in The Iron Lady. Indeed, Streep continues to cement her reputation as a chameleon following memorable performances as the icy fashion editor Miranda Priestly in The Devil Wears Prada and the affably eccentric Julia Child in Julie & Julia. She has an overwhelming command of the film whenever she is on screen and her portrayal of Thatcher goes beyond mere mimicry. It is unfortunate that the screenplay and the direction of The Iron Lady aren't on par with Streep.

The Iron Lady opens in 2008 with a meek and elderly Thatcher attempting to buy milk at the corner store. It's an ironic situation given that she cancelled the schools' free milk program as Secretary of Education, earning her the derisive nickname of Thatcher the Milk Snatcher. Once she was the first woman to become Prime Minister of the United Kingdom and the person to serve in that office for the longest term of the 20th century. Now, she struggles with dementia while carrying on imaginary conversations with her late-husband, Denis (Jim Broadbent).

Flashbacks tell the story of a young "Maggie" (Alexandra Roach) growing up idolizing her father, Alfred Roberts (Iain Glen), a grocer and alderman. She eventually marries Denis (played in younger years by Harry Lloyd), whose lighthearted sense of humor counters the serious demands placed upon Thatcher's political career. As she slowly rises in the ranks of Parliament to become Prime Minister, Thatcher deals with the dismissive and chauvinistic attitudes of her peers. Her time as P.M. is marked by terrorist attacks, economic strife, violent protests, and war. Sound familiar?

The Iron Lady takes a decidedly feminist viewpoint of its subject thanks to the involvement of director Phyllida Lloyd, who previously worked with Streep on the musical Mamma Mia, and screenwriter Abi Morgan, who co-wrote Steve McQueen's Shame. She's tough as nails, but still a lady. She'll declare war in the Falkland Islands while kindly pouring tea for Alexander Haig. Thatcher as a woman fighting for survival in a man's world is hammered home by an overhead shot of her in a blue dress sticking out like a sore thumb in a sea of well-tailored suits. Another shows Thatcher being ushered into the lady's lounge of Parliament, equipped with a single chair and an ironing board. At one point, we are treated to a King's Speech sequence when Thatcher undergoes vocal lessons as part of an image makeover enacted by her advisors.

Those expecting The Iron Lady to glorify or vilify a polarizing figure in political history will be disappointed. Neither Lloyd nor Morgan takes a strong stance one way or another about Thatcher's hardliner policies against the IRA and the Soviets or her staunch opposition to labor unions. As a result, Iron Lady lacks any sort of bite or substance. It doesn't help that the filmmakers rely heavily on montages to skim over some of the most important events during Thatcher's term, such as the Falklands and the crippling labor strikes. And Lloyd seems to absolutely love shots of Thatcher riding in the back of a limo as angry protestors slam their fists on her window. Things veer dangerously close to camp during a sequence depicting the IRA's bombing of the Grand Hotel in an attempt to assassinate Thatcher and most of her cabinet as well as the car bombing that killed her campaign manager Airey Neave. The latter scene shows Thatcher, in heels, rushing to the burning wreckage. Why not just have her fly back in slow motion, and then raise her fist to the sky to scream, "Noooooooo!"

It should be noted that The Iron Lady does have a few positives to be noted, aside from Streep. She may have been overshadowed by the film's star, but Alexandra Roach does a splendid job as the young Margaret Thatcher and there are solid turns by Richard E. Grant and Anthony Stewart Head as members of Thatcher's inner circle.

The Iron Lady reminds me of another tepid biopic, Clint Eastwood's J. Edgar. Though the make-up here is a darn sight better than what was slathered on Leonardo DiCaprio, both pictures are shallow and bogged down by silly narrative devices. The Iron Lady is a prime example of a great performance trapped inside a bad movie.

Rating: * ½ (*****)

Julie & Julia

Julie & Julia - Dir. Nora Ephron (2009)


What’s the old saying? Too many cooks spoil the broth? In the case of Julie & Julia, one too many ingredients have spoiled the main course. Writer/director Nora Ephron (Sleepless in Seattle, You’ve Got Mail) based the parallel stories of her film on two different memoirs, Julie Powell’s Julie & Julia and Julia Child’s My Life in France.

Amy Adams is Julie Powell an aspiring writer who now works at the call center for the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation, the folks in charge of the rebuilding of the World Trade Center. She handles calls that range from the heartbreaking (a woman mourning the death of a loved one) to the asinine (uncouth complaints about the designs). Her job is completely unfulfilling and it doesn’t help that her more successful friends constantly rub her nose in their upper class lifestyles. Why is she friends with them, then? I don’t know. Julie finds a creative outlet when she decides to blog about her attempts to make every recipe in Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking.

Meryl Streep is Julia Child, a former OSS clerk transplanted into Paris when her husband, Paul (Stanley Tucci), is assigned to the American embassy. Julia struggles to find something meaningful to do while her husband works. Hat making and bridge won’t cut it. She eventually enrolls in cooking school and, despite objections from the arrogant Madame Brassart (Joan Juliet Buck), becomes an accomplished chef. Julia begins teaching other expatriates the wonders of French cuisine and hopes to edify more by putting together Mastering. She finds the road to publication paved with skepticism as her husband faces the looming specter of McCarthyism.

As much as I love Amy Adams, the Julie Powell storyline make up the weakest sections of the film. It’s all paint-by-numbers or should I say, cooking-by-numbers? Her character is never fully developed enough to the point where we become emotionally involved in her efforts. There’s the predictable collapse under pressure and argument with husband, Eric (Chris Messina). Of course, there’s never any tension about a potential break-up because we know they’ll get back together by the third act.

The Julia Child component of Julie & Julia is written slightly better, but it’s elevated to immense heights by the performance of Meryl Streep. With 15 Oscar nominations (and 2 wins) under her belt, Streep is assured another for 2009. She is complimented by a brief, but memorable, appearance by the ultra-talented Jane Lynch as Julia’s sister, Dorothy. Streep brings the character to life rather than doing a mere imitation. It really makes me wish that they had just done this as a straight Julia Child biopic. As it stands, Julie & Julia spreads itself too thin, leaving both stories underdone.

Rating: **

Fantastic Mr. Fox

Fantastic Mr. Fox - Dir. Wes Anderson (2009)


I count myself as a big Wes Anderson fan. Though most folks will immediately list Rushmore as his best film, it’s a distant second, in my opinion, to The Royal Tenenbaums. His debut film, Bottle Rocket, was a funny and touching combination of the slacker film and heist picture. However, Anderson’s unique visual style and storytelling methods grew stale following The Life Aquatic and The Darjeeling Limited. It seemed as if he was just spinning his wheels, revisiting the exact same themes he had already explored. When I learned Anderson was adapting Roald Dahl’s Fantastic Mr. Fox, I had hoped he would stretch himself as a filmmaker. A movie based on someone else’s material and done with stop-motion animation seemed like the way to go. I was disappointed after viewing the trailer since Fantastic Mr. Fox looked exactly like every other Wes Anderson film. After catching the actual film, I found my apprehension to be unfounded. He has succeeded beyond expectations in creating one of the most unique and enjoyable movies of the year.

George Clooney provides the voice for Mr. Fox, a charmer who gets his kicks from stealing chickens. He vows to give it up after he and his pregnant wife, Felicity (Meryl Streep), narrowly escape a fox trap. Years pass and Fox now lives in a hole with wife and son, Ash (Jason Schwartzman), and works as a newspaper columnist. He’s lived up to his promise, but feels stifled by what his life has become. Fox moves his family into a tree near the farms of Boggis (Robin Hurlstone), Bunce (Hugo Guinness), and Bean (Michael Gambon), the meanest and nastiest farmers in the valley. Yet, it’s still not enough. In Fox’s own words, he is a “wild animal,” and the call is too much to resist. When Fox robs them of their chickens, smoked meats, and apple cider, the farmers attempt to dig their adversary out of his hole, endangering every animal in the valley.

Anderson and co-writer Noah Baumbach (The Squid and the Whale, Margot at the Wedding) step beyond the original story by adding a subplot revolving around family dysfunction and the father-son dynamics which both are so fond of exploring. Ash is insecure about his size and lack of athletic ability. His self-esteem only plummets when cousin Kristofferson (Eric Chase Anderson) comes to stay while his uncle recovers from triple pneumonia. Kristofferson is tall, smart, practices yoga, and a martial arts expert. Everybody flocks to Kristofferson. He has more Fox in him than Ash does leading to a jealous rivalry.

Anderson fills out the rest of the supporting cast with his usual repertoire of players like Bill Murray as Fox’s lawyer Badger, Brian Cox as a news reporter, Willem Dafoe as Bean’s security guard Rat, and Owen Wilson in a cute aside as a coach explaining the Byzantine rules of Whackbat. The director also completes the soundtrack with his always eclectic choices. This time around we get The Beach Boys, The Bobby Fuller Four, Burl Ives, “The Ballad of Davy Crockett” (which opens the picture), and, of course, The Rolling Stones. No David Bowie?

Working in a new medium has reinvigorated Anderson’s idiosyncratic trademarks. Nobody has tried to make an animated film the way Anderson has. Mr. Fox stands head and shoulders above the majority of its cookie cutter peers because it doesn’t look like anything else. Anderson has created a whimsical and timeless world. The puppets were created using actual hair and animal fur giving them a textured feel that can’t be replicated by any software. The cross-section tableaus, the bold yellow chapter headings, the straight-on medium and close-up shots, and the dry quirky humor are on full display in Mr. Fox. In particular, Schwartzman’s deadpan delivery and a running gag where characters cuss by actually saying, “Cuss,” are some of the funniest bits.

2009 should definitely be considered a watershed year for what would be labeled as “family friendly entertainment.” I consider Mr. Fox, Where the Wild Things Are, Coraline, and Up as some of the best films of the year. None of those movies attempt to dumb things down or pander to the audience. They don’t aim for one particular demographic yet appeal to all age groups. Throughout Mr. Fox, there’s an underlying theme about individualism and a subtle commentary about our current economic climate and the trappings of materialism. Kids probably won’t get a lot of that or understand some of the irreverent humor, but there’s more than enough imagination and visual wonder to keep them (and their parents) enthralled.

Rating: *** ½

Doubt

Doubt - Dir. John Patrick Shanley (2008)


” I will do what needs to be done, though I'm damned to Hell! You should understand that, or you will mistake me.”

Playwright John Patrick Shanley has had much success in the theater world. However, success in Hollywood had been middling, at best. Shanley won an Oscar for his first screenplay, Moonstruck, but he hasn’t been able to catch lightning in a bottle again. After a pair of forgettable films, Shanley made his debut as a director with Joe Versus the Volcano, a movie synonymous with the term, box office bomb. Shanley didn’t direct again for over a decade and a half though did (mind-bogglingly) write the adaptation of Congo. Shanley once again steps into the director’s chair for the film version of his Pulitzer and Tony-winning play, Doubt.

Doubt takes place at a Catholic school in the Bronx during the mid-60’s. The country is in the midst of massive change and the Vatican Church prepares to act accordingly. Father Flynn (Philip Seymour Hoffman) is looking to enact some sort of progress under the guise of the Vatican II movement. Meanwhile the school’s principal and head nun, the stern Sister Aloysius (Meryl Streep), clings to the stodgy traditions that have been the norm all her life. Sister Aloysius isn’t above smacking a kid in the back of the head. She thinks ball point pens will destroy an entire generation’s penmanship. She feels “Frosty the Snowman” is a song that promotes pagan rituals. When Sister Aloysius lets her thoughts about a magical snowman be known, Father Flynn snidely reveals the topic for his next sermon, ‘intolerance.’

Trapped in the middle of this conflict is the young sister James (Amy Adams). Sister Aloysius takes Sister James under her wing, giving advice on how to handle her unruly students. She also asks that Sister James keep her eye on Father Flynn. There’s something that’s just not right about him. Thus the seed is planted and Sister James believes that there is something suspicious about the relationship between Father Flynn and the school’s first and only black student, Donald Miller (Joseph Foster).

The film isn’t about truth, but the hazy gray area of ambiguity. There’s no evidence at all of impropriety and Shanley manages to avoid pointing the audience towards guilty or innocent. The words ‘pedophilia’ and ‘molestation’ are never uttered. What Shanley isn’t able to do is translate his play into a full cinematic experience. To his credit, Doubt isn’t overly stage-y, but Shanley tries too hard in certain moments to visually expand the film. His allusions are a bit too obvious. Strong winds and rain, a cat catching a mouse, etc. In one sequence, we watch the nuns have a modest, quiet, and orderly dinner before we cut to the priests laughing loudly at dirty jokes while drinking wine and cutting into blood red meat. Shanley also tries to spice his composition up with several ill-advised tilted angles.

Doubt is essentially an actor’s showcase and everybody brings it. In particular, there is the commanding presence of Meryl Streep who has mastered the icy cold exterior and biting wit of Sister Aloysius. And nobody does wide-eyed, white bread, naiveté than Amy Adams. The film hits a left turn when Viola Davis steps in as Donald Miller’s mother. She only has a small part, but her scenes with Streep are the film’s most pivotal moments.

Rating: ***