Best of 2013

No need for an essay this year. If there's a running theme through my favorite films in 2013, it's perhaps wistfulness. There are a lot of love stories -- between couples, between parents and children. And there's a good deal of sorrow. 

It was a year for small but sturdy dramas; only two documentaries cracked the Top 15, and only two films could truly be classified as comedies -- though many of the others have profoundly funny moments.

These were the movies I loved this year:

THE TOP 15

1.  Frances Ha - I watched it three times, and I was amazed by Greta Gerwig each time and moved by her character's journey as crafted by Noah Baumbach.

2.  The Broken Circle Breakdown - This one still gnaws at me; it is expertly assembled and downright heart-wrenching.

3.  Nebraska - Funny, honest, touching; a perfect American film.

4.  Blue Is the Warmest Color - I called it one of the greatest relationship movies ever; I gave this film, not Scorsese's, my three hours.

5.  Mud - Might have been No. 1 if not for losing its momentum in the final reel. But until then, Matthew McConaughey was at his peak and director Jeff Nichols was on the verge of a masterpiece.

6.  Enough Said - This one I watched twice, and Nicole Holofcener's air-tight script was graced by two fine actors -- Julia Louis-Dreyfus and the late James Gandolfini.

7.  Let the Fire Burn - Riveting. An unblinking account of the police bombing of Move members in Philadelphia in 1985.

8.  Upstream Color - An obtuse love story, with layers that reveal themselves upon repeated viewing.

9.  Short Term 12 - A gem of an indie that shows us how the next generation struggles to connect with each other.

10. Before Midnight - This could go just about anywhere on this list; if it wasn't so self-aware and hadn't spun its wheels in the beginning, it could have been the best in Richard Linklater's memorable trilogy.

11. Bert Stern: Original Madman - A fascinating study of one man's (love) life. This one really hit home. 

12. In a World ... - Lake Bell wrote and starred in a thoroughly entertaining story full of quirk and great lines.

13. Museum Hours - Quiet beauty. 

14. War Witch - A stirring tale of the horrors of war through one brave girl's eyes.

15. The Selfish Giant - Yet more kids turning in mesmerizing performances, and one of those undeniably bleak British dramas.

JUST MISSED THE LIST

• Much Ado About Nothing - Probably the best director (Joss Whedon) and best ensemble cast of the year.
• Computer Chess - Runner-up for best director; a fascinating period piece.
• The World's End - Exhaustingly hilarious.
• Philomena - Sweet and sorrowful.
• Supporting Characters - A surprisingly funny and clever little movie with solid performances all around.
• The Hunt - Strong acting in a disturbing tale.
• Sightseers - Another offbeat British offering, with a killer ending
• Shadow Dancer - The best thriller of the year.
• Augustine - Two fine actors in an unsettling drama.
• The Look of Love  - Winterbottom and Coogan succeed even on an off day.
• Shun Li and the Poet - Yet another powerful relationship movie.
• Something in the Air - France's haunting version of "Not Fade Away."
• Side Effects - I'm still mulling this one over.

TOP DOCS

• Salinger - Not only did they not screw this up, but they nailed what is a difficult profile.
• 20 Feet From Stardom - Pure joy in a movie theater.
• AKA Doc Pomus - Pure bittersweet joy, and a true revelation in the same vein as 2012's "Searching for Sugarman."
• The Square - Urgent filmmaking.
• Blackfish - A technically sharp and effective polemic.
• Koch - More fun with a memorable character.

IT'S NOT YOU, IT'S ME

(Good films where we just didn't quite click)

• Inside Llewyn Davis
• A Touch of Sin
• Stories We Tell
• The Act of Killing
  
• An Oversimplification of Her Beauty
• The We and the I 
• Fruitvale Station

GUILTY PLEASURES

• The Angels' Share
• Prince Avalanche
• Populaire
• In the House
• A Glimpse Inside the Mind of Charles Swan III
• The Bling Ring 

TOP PERFORMANCES

• The Kids: Tye Sheridan in "Mud"; Annika Wedderkopp in "The Hunt"; Conner Chapman in "The Selfish Giant"
• Greta Gerwig in "Frances Ha"
• Jared Leto in "Dallas Buyers Club"
• Sandra Bullock in "Gravity"
• Michael Cera in "Crystal Fairy & The Magic Cactus"
• Adele Exarchopoulos in "Blue Is the Warmest Color"
• Bruce Dern in "Nebraska" 
• Soren Malling in "A Hijacking"

 

 THE DUDS

• Blue Jasmine: The worst of the worst: I don't know if I've ever squirmed that much during a feature film.
• Passion
• Hannah Arendt
• Drinking Buddies
• Renoir 
• Elysium
• Like Someone in Love

COMING ATTRACTIONS

(Wish I'd seen these)

• The Past
• Mother of George
• You Will Be My Son
• Molly's Theory of Relativity
• Beyond the Hills
• All Is Lost

Stay tuned for reports on those last six titles once I catch up with them -- and plenty more -- as we forge ahead into February . . . 

And justice for all

THE SQUARE (A-minus) - This un-narrated documentary about Egypt's democracy movement of the past three years is not so much fly-on-the-wall as it is bomb-in-the-beehive. It is a riveting chronicle that manages to be both a fervent celebration and an urgent polemic as it takes us from the early days of the movement in Tahrir Square to the recent fall of the Muslim Brotherhood's presidential candidate after a year in office.

It's all slickly shot with a digital device that runs with the revolutionaries like the football  field cameras that swoop among the players. Cairo native Jehane Noujaim ("Control Room") stands with her brothers and sisters and captures their fears and emotions as they stand in brave defiance of the military regime. The camera doesn't blink when the tanks start rolling and bullets start flying and a body lies lifeless in the streets. If anything, though, the production at times comes off as a little too slick.

Noujaim focuses on several heroes, who tend to have movie-star good looks. Ahmed Hassan is full of passion and endures more than one knock on the head. Khalid Abdalla is an actor (Scottish born of Egyptian parents, he starred in "The Kite Runner") who serves as the English-language spokesman for the movement. Bespectacled Aida Elkashef is a fellow filmmaker and another strong voice of the people. By keeping her camera trained on these articulate leaders, Noujaim too often renders the rest of the hundreds of thousands of protesters as a faceless mob.

Of course, she's trying to personalize the story here, so the strategy is understandable. It pays off with a powerful dramatic arc. And the camerawork at times is stunning. The God shots from high above give the dramatic sense of a true mass movement, especially one shot that fans out from the square and snakes along adjacent streets and a bridge to suggest the presence of millions of citizens standing up for a free and just society. The images can be frightening, lovely and inspiring. 

INEQUALITY FOR ALL (B+) - Here's former Labor Secretary Robert Reich taking the lectern as wise old Uncle Bob to explain how unfair America's capitalist system is. And he makes it highly entertaining.

First off, the graphics are stellar. They are smart, intuitive, meaningful and easy to grasp; they never detract from the narrative but rather nestle snugly in the production. Second, Reich is highly personable; he's a diehard lefty, but he's not strident or bullying. His self-deprecating humor wears thin at times (we get it, he's really short), but his charm wins out in the end.

Reich served during Bill Clinton's fractured first term, and he apparently burned out on being the contrarian voice on behalf of the lower classes. Another, less fauning, documentary will have to sort that out, but points to Reich and director Jacob Kornbluth for not glossing over Reich's culpability and that of the centrist he served.

This is a zippy little movie with a powerful message that needs to be heard.

BONUS TRACK
In case you missed that link above, our random song of the day:

Big-Name Docs

From the Legends of the 20th Century collection ...
 
THE PUNK SINGER: A FILM ABOUT KATHLEEN HANNA (B) - Girls up front!

This is an infectiously entertaining valentine to the leader of the '90s Riot Grrrl movement, Kathleen Hanna, who fronted the influential bands Bikini Kill, Le Tigre and more recently the Julie Ruin.

Newcomer Sini Anderson shows a sure hand with archival footage and extensive interviews with Hanna, former bandmates, fellow riot grrrls, Beastie Boy husband Adam Horovitz, historians, and elders like Joan Jett and Kim Gordon. Hanna is a fascinating subject, mainly because we have a 25-year span to view her evolution from young punk to a middle-age artist recovering from years of a debilitating condition (Lyme disease).

The compilation of music is a revelation, a discography that holds its own against that of any of her contemporaries. In addition, the assertion of third-wave feminism throughout is a shout-down to today's trivialized dialogue.

A more balanced documentary would have gotten a higher grade, but this is must-see viewing for anyone who was plugged in during the Heyday of the Planet of Sound in the late '80s and early '90s. And it's essential history for young women anywhere looking for inspiration. Ms. Hanna is talking to you.

THE TRIALS OF MUHAMMAD ALI (B+) - This highly sympathetic documentary zeroes in on Ali's conversion to Islam and his refusal to serve in Vietnam, as a conscientious objector. If you're an admirer, as I have been since a kid, you'll revel in the black-and-white footage from the '60s.

Bill Siegel, who succeeded previously with "The Weather Underground," returns to those turbulent times and digs up some of The Greatest's greatest hits, including a snippet of his debate with William F. Buckley, at a time when Ali seemed to be everywhere as a lightning rod and worldwide cultural phenomenon.

Ali comes off as a hero, and Siegel shows the man's evolution from a neophyte from Louisville into a fervent public speaker, who transitioned into a role of statesman above and beyond his familiar boasts and rhymes. I could have done without the coda that jumps from the '70s to more recent times, including the iconic lighting of the Olympic torch. I would have preferred to end on a vibrant note, rather than bathing the man's battle in amber.

IS THE MAN WHO IS TALL HAPPY? AN ANIMATED CONVERSATION WITH NOAM CHOMSKY (B) - Filmmaker Michel Gondry ("Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind") has a blast chatting with Noam Chomsky and then riffing on the experience through animation. You have to admire Gondry's gumption, because he's admittedly a neophyte when it comes to the MIT linguist's scholarship, and a good deal of the movie's charm comes from Gondry's drive to nail down an idea, no matter how green he may seem.

There's little structure here and a lot of repetition. The images are crude but at times mesmerizing. At times they detract from Chomsky's complex points; at other times they relieve the tedium. The informal nature works, though. A running gag finds the two men occasionally misunderstanding each other, due mostly to Gondry's heavy French accent. For instance, Gondry struggles to grasp the word "endowment," and when Chomsky says "yield" the director hears "eel."

The old confident Chomsky is refreshingly present, always certain of his assertions. On one topic he notes that what Gondry has stated is accepted by every philosopher and linguist out there -- but that they're all wrong. His worldview is condensed neatly when he makes a passing reference to Colombia, noting that it has one of the worst human rights records of any nation and that it has one of the largest U.S. military presences -- and that, of course, there's a direct correlation between the two.

Toward the end, Gondry gets personal, and Chomsky has trouble talking about the death of his wife five years ago. It would have made a perfect ending, but instead, Gondry brings up the Holocaust and sends the proceedings off on another tangent.

It's all rather slapdash, and that's its appeal. In the end, it's fun to spend time with a brilliant man and a creative genius.

BONUS TRACK
One of the anthems from Kathleen Hanna, the title track from Bikini Kill's second full-length album:

The Hard Life

THE SELFISH GIANT (A-minus) - This gut-wrenching drama follows a pair of delinquent 13-year-old boys trying to survive a hardscrabble existence in the shadows of nuclear reactors and awful adults in a tough British town.

In a solid year for child actors, Connor Chapman, as the perpetually angry Arbor, turns in a compelling lead performance that carries the entire film. Arbor, taking his cues from the miserable, abusive men he is surrounded by, is a Category 3 hurricane of a child, spewing vitriol at everyone in his path, including his own poor downtrodden mother. He takes guff from no one (policemen included), and he's a wonderfully foul-mouthed little git.

Arbor lures his frumpy pal Swifty (Shaun Thomas) into a school suspension, which provides the opportunity to make money salvaging scrap to sell at a local yard run by a lunk by the name of Kitten, who lends out his horse and cart to the boys. The boys show no fear in stealing valuable cable and plenty of ingenuity in figuring out ways to bring their haul in safely. Swifty is somewhat of a horse-whisperer, who lavishes love on the horse and dreams of one day piloting the beast in a sulky street race.

Director Clio Barnard (known previously for her documentary "The Arbor") creates a frightening world of danger and despair. She creates terror in a wild street race in which the horses and carts are trailed menacingly by cars driven by the town maniacs.

Doom hangs over every scene, and you squirm in your seat waiting for the inevitable tragedy to unfold. When it happens, it's truly shocking and disturbing. The film is bookended by scenes of one of the boys cowering beneath a bed, hiding from the world, soothed only by the outstretched hand of the other. It's a powerful symbol. It's you-and-me-against-the-world and a defiant roar into the roiling world they were unlucky enough to be born into and most likely will never escape from.

CAESAR MUST DIE (B) - This is a fascinating little documentary (76 minutes) observing hard-core Italian prisoners as they prepare to stage a production of Shakespeare's "Julius Caesar."

Longtime filmmakers Paola and Vittorio Taviani shoot mostly in lush black-and-white digital images that seem to capture the spirits as well as the expressive faces of the hardened criminals, including mobsters and murderers.  The star of the production is Salvatore, who plays Brutus with a frightening intensity. Physically he brings to mind the menacing bookie Manfro on "Men of a Certain Age" (Jon Manfrellotti). Others emerge as fascinating character studies with impressive acting skills; one, Juan Dario, has leading-man looks and expressive eyes.

We run through the entire production process, starting with auditions, which provide the best scene in the film. As rehearsals progress and the men start to master the material, their identities take shape; the men both meld with their classic characters and diverge from these lionized Roman ancestors. The men bond with each other and antagonize each other. The proceedings free them, temporarily, from their cells, but in the end, that is where they will be headed.

PARADISE: FAITH (B) - This is perhaps the most brutal of the three films in Ulrich Seidl's trilogy (also including the first one, "Love," and the more recent "Hope"). Anna Maria, a middle-aged Austrian woman, has regained her faith in God, and she goes all-in, flagellating her bare torso daily and lugging statues of the Virgin Mary from door-to-door hoping to convert her lower-class neighbor sinners.

One day, her husband returns, and her faith is tested anew. He's a traditional Muslim, paralyzed from an accident and abusive to her (though he's loving with the friend's cat she's taking care of). She won't sleep with him, which enrages him. Meantime, she has an almost romantic reverence for her many crucifixes featuring her Lord and Savior. When she stumbles on a graphic orgy in the park one evening, she must go straight home and shower.

Folks invite her into their homes, and a couple of the prayer sessions turn contentious, especially the visit with a drunk Russian woman. Some are entertaining, like the speedo-clad hoarder who can't bring himself to sleep in the bed his mom died in.

This is tough to watch. Many long takes are achingly real, especially the arguments. How will Anna Maria handle God's great challenges? You might crack before she ever does.

The Above-Average Now

THE SPECTACULAR NOW (B) -  This plays like a really good "Afterschool Special" from the 1970s. And that's not a bad thing.

Miles Teller and Shailene Woodley are two of the most appealing and talented young actors out there. And they ably pull off this charming look at young love. Sutter masks his self-loathing and insecurities (and excessive drinking) with a superficial charm that seduces friends, teachers and girls -- to a certain extent. Aimee finds Sutter passed out on her lawn one morning, and they fall in together, even though Sutter's pals think he's slumming after a breakup with the much hotter (and blonder) Cassidy (Brie Larson who was much more effective in "Short Term 12").

Teller here comes off as a young John Cusack playing a depressed Ferris Bueller. Woodley overdoes the grounded-good-girl role a bit. Sutter, turns out, has daddy issues, and the worst part of the film comes when he tracks down the deadbeat who is living in a motel and takes the 17-year-olds out for drinks, makes them pay for the round and then abandons them. The scene never rises above cliche, and the film struggles to recover during the final third, and it's to Teller and Woodley's credit that they make you care how this turns out. The script is by Scott Neustadter and Michael H. Weber, who last coughed up the underwhelming quirky romance "(500) Days of Summer."

A fine adult cast of supporting characters chips in: Jennifer Jason Leigh as Sutter's mom; Bob Odenkirk as his boss; Kyle Chandler as his dad; and Mary Elizabeth Winstead (the star of "Smashed") is his sister. Director James Ponsoldt explored similar territory -- a young adult with a drinking problem, destroying his relationships -- much more deftly in "Smashed" in 2012. 

SILVER LININGS PLAYBOOK (B-minus) - A fun but contrived screwball comedy about two hurting souls struggling with mental illness. I had trouble taking it seriously, because it was too broad and cartoonish, and I rolled my eyes at the hoary contrivance of a dance contest designed to make everything right.

Interestingly, I loved the silly plot line of Robert De Niro (playing Bradley Cooper's father) following the Philadelphia Eagles with a pathological superstition. Without De Niro and Jennifer Lawrence, this would have been unwatchable. As it is, Lawrence is saddled with the ham-handed characterization of a young widow who acts out like a nymphomaniac.

This is generally entertaining, but it's well short of essential viewing. 

BONUS TRACKS
From the closing credits of "Now" is the best song of the year, "Song for Zula" by Phosphorescent:

And from "Silver Linings," a Stevie Wonder classic:

Life Is Short

Life Is Short is an as-needed series documenting the films we just couldn't make it through. We like to refer to these movies as "Damsels in Distress." Previous entries are here , here, and here.

TWO THIS WEEK:

I couldn't handle "12 Years a Slave." I just couldn't sit in a theater with about a half dozen other middle-aged white people watching snarling white actors (an embarrassment for Pauls Giamatti and Dano) beat, denigrate and dehumanize black actors, all under the stylish gaze of a flashy British director.

Maybe I'm unable to properly empathize with people who don't look like me; perhaps I'm more comfortable with indie sagas of middle-class angst. Maybe I'm a coward, unable to face up to a painful, horrifying history. But I'm tired of wallowing in the old order -- at least the dramatizing of it. I'll watch a documentary about slavery. But I see no reason to put Chiwetel Ejiofor through such a spectacle.

Title: 12 YEARS A SLAVE
Running Time: 134 MIN
Elapsed Time at Plug Pull: 60 MIN
Portion Watched: 45%
My Age at Time of Viewing: 51 YRS, 1 MO.
Average Male American Lifespan: 81.2 YRS.
Watched/Did Instead: Sampled about 20 minutes  of two other films at the cineplex and then went home and watched a documentary
Odds of Re-viewing This Title: The first half: 100-1; the second half: 5-1.

***


As a fan of  Frederick Wiseman's documentaries, I was prepared to commit more than four hours to his latest fly-on-the-wall examination of life, this one at the University of California's hardcore liberal enclave. Unfortunately, his style is all wrong for this project -- at least what I saw of it.

Much of the first half hour is taken up by one class's droning discussion of poverty, where students are given minutes at a time to make their points, which are often, in the style of the young, poorly articulated and repetitive. A good chunk of the rest of the hour involves faculty and staff rambling on and on about the budget crisis at the school.

Perhaps I'm just a grumpy geezer, but I can't imagine wanting to sit in a classroom with earnest, naive college students purporting to solve the world's problems. This whole project cries out for editing. Massive editing. Maybe I'm missing a masterpiece, but I'll get on just fine.

Title: AT BERKELEY
Running Time: 244MIN
Elapsed Time at Plug Pull: 60 MIN
Portion Watched: 24.6%
My Age at Time of Viewing: 51 YRS, 1 MO.
Average Male American Lifespan: 81.2 YRS.
Watched/Did Instead: Watched some of "Saturday Night Live" and went to bed
Odds of Re-viewing This Title: 40-1

The Promised Land

UNA NOCHE (B) - Three frustrated, disaffected youths in bustling, grimy Havana weave their lives together and grow desperate enough to build a raft and try to paddle their way to Miami and salvation.

Lucy Malloy's drama has the gritty realism of a documentary, and the three appealing lead characters -- Lila (Anailin de la Rua de la Torre), her brother Elio (Javier Nunez Florian) and his fast-food co-worker Raul (Dariel Arrechaga) -- work well together. Lila suffers insults from other young women, Raul hustles to score HIV meds for his prostitute mother, and Elio may secretly harbor a crush on Raul, who definitely has a crush on Lila.

The film meanders around the filthy streets of Havana for quite a while, as Malloy takes her time building up her trio to that point of desperation. These kids seem to have no future (judging by the dire straits of their elders), and they dream of a brighter life in America. The actual trip across the Gulf is neither epic nor mundane, as each of their issues comes to a head

The result is heartfelt and moving.

ELYSIUM (D+) - This futuristic fable has been taken seriously by so many critics that I was shocked to find that it is unbearable idiotic pap. It's a joke of a movie in which Matt Damon goes Robocop in his dying days on the elites and their utopia on behalf of the masses left huddled in dystopian LA.

This film faded in my memory almost instantly. What has stuck with me is the hilarious accents on display. Jodie Foster runs Elysium, the spa in the sky for the rich, where every illness is magically cured and lawns are forever manicured. Foster looks like Christine Lagarde and speaks like a British schoolmarm, for some reason. One of the bad guys sports an odd Scottish accent. And one of Latino freedom fighters assisting Damon mumbles most of his lines.

Alice Braga suffers through a role as a noble minority with a dying daughter. Braga's Frey was childhood pals with Damon's Max, and little Max is about as Opie and dopey and soapie as you can get in amber flashbacks. Will the brave white man -- racing against time, with only days to live due to a radiation exposure at his heartless workplace but energized by a body contraption plugged into his brain -- win the battle against the evil powers and save that little girl's life before he coughs out his last breath?

I fast-forwarded a bit to get through this two-hour clunker and find out, but whaddya know, I guessed right.

The Expectations Game

Two highly anticipated releases from favorite directors fall just a bit short. Each deserves a re-assessment down the road.

INSIDE LLEWYN DAVIS (B+) - Normally I can go on and on about the latest Coen brothers masterpiece. They had a spectacular run from 2007 to 2010, including "No Country for Old Men," "A Serious Man" and "True Grit."

This one is unique among their films. There is very little quirk here -- aside from John Goodman's fop of a character and a harried woman holding up a cat and demanding, "Where is his scrotum?!" -- and instead we get a straightforward, somber story about a struggling singer-songwriting in Greenwich Village in 1961 on the brink of the explosion of the folk scene into the public consciousness. The Coens are not working broad here, but rather shunning farce in favor of a sober narrative.

Llewyn Davis is talented, but he's a bitter asshole. (Carey Mulligan -- miscast as a pal's wife, Jean, whom Llewyn has slept with -- repeats that word a lot.) He has good reasons: he's got father issues, he has split from his former singing partner (losing perhaps his best shot at stardom); he's broke; his manager's a bum. One business insider tells Llewyn that he's not a bankable solo artist and that he doesn't connect with the audience like other performers. He has more of the sad intensity of Phil Ochs than the philosophical playfulness of Bob Dylan. Nothing seems to make him happy. He seems doomed to obscurity and resigned to that fate. He's one of the many non-Dylans who won't make it big (or at all).

Oscar Isaac is brilliant in the lead role, as singer and sardonic smart-ass. He gives a heartbreaking performance, and even if you can't stand Llewyn you probably can feel for him. The versions of "Hang Me" that open and close the film are transcendent.

My problems with "Inside Llewyn Davis" are in the execution, which is a little too slick and familiar for its own good. The streets and alleys and fire escapes of Greenwich Village look like backlots; the snow piles on the sidewalks are a little too perfectly sculpted; the period details -- meant to evoke the album cover of "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan" -- are overly mannered; the manager and his ancient secretary are pale replicas of the rabbi and his old secretary in "A Serious Man"; the "Dylan" cameo at the end is awkwardly staged. As noted, Mulligan is out of place as a brunette hippie chick (Jeanine Serralles, who plays Llewyn's sister, Joy, is eminently sharper), and her marriage to Justin Timberlake's character becomes a forgotten after-thought, as if the Coens could arrange for only two days of shooting out of JT's busy schedule. Some of the plot points are a little too obvious: what became of Llewyn's partner; his signing away of royalty rights on a studio session for the quick buck.

Llewyn Davis is a man who makes terrible choices. That character flaw is driven home by his handling of a friend's cat, which Llewyn must carry around the city until he can get it back to its owner. (One of the film's triumphs is how the Coens make the cat a fully functional character.) At times the tabby dashes off comically; but at a crucial point in the story, Llewyn can't be bothered with the cat anymore. (Not to mention another human being.) Elsewhere, the idea of becoming a father doesn't register with him. Repeatedly, when called upon to be human and to make the right choice, he veers off down his destructive path, which is padded with free couches to crash on.

This is a cautionary tale that reminds us, once again, that the most talented performers do not always become the most popular. "There's no money in it," Llewyn is told after he pours his heart into one of the many powerful songs exquisitely performed in the movie. So what else is left?

A TOUCH OF SIN (B+) - Jia Zhangke is a master filmmaker from China, who directed one of the best films of the past decade, "The World."  You also can't go wrong with "24 City" and "Still Life."

Here he weaves four stories of present-day China, all involving startling acts of violence meant to deal with the ills of modern society. The first involves a gunman seeking revenge against corrupt politicians; he wields his shotgun as if in a classic spaghetti western. Another involves a woman trapped in a dead-end job as a receptionist at a spa, where she must dodge the creeps who mistake her for the women who perform happy-ending massages. The final segment involves teenagers, and the hope is that this new generation will end the cycle of violence; and while no attack on another person takes place, Jia shocks us with a surprising suicide, also realistically rendered.

The violence is graphic and matter-of-fact, always a jolt. It's not stylized or tempered; like in real life, it is sudden and direct.

Jia uses animals as parallels throughout. The man with a shotgun uses the symbol of the tiger as his inspiration, and he stalks his prey methodically before pouncing. A heartless street thug is paired with dead-eyed oxen headed to slaughter. The receptionist at one point enters a caravan full of snakes, and she, when cornered, lashes out with a pocket knife.

The pieces don't hold together in any apparent way. Like the Coen brothers film, the nihilism is laid on thick. Our fate is sealed early on and we are the victims of the random acts of the universe.

And the end isn't necessarily pretty.

Him

HER (B+) - It's no secret that we here have our relationship issues. Let's talk about the one between me and Joaquin Phoenix.

There's one big problem with Spike Jonze's brilliantly conceived relationship drama about a man and the artificial-intelligence system he falls for:  the man is played by Joaquin Phoenix. I don't like him, never have, and I can't stand to watch him for two hours straight. Feel free to readjust the above grade for the film up or down depending on your tolerance of the leading man.

Not that subbing in a better actor (let's see, maybe Michael Cera or Paul Giamatti or Mark Duplass) would have made this a perfect film. It's too long and it drags in the middle; Jonze then tries to stuff all of his big ideas into the final reel. On the other hand, this is, at times, a powerful polemic against monogamy and a thoughtful reminder of the impossibility of finding another person that can make you whole. But I think I would have liked this better if it had been a novel rather than a complicated, compromised production by a former music-video auteur now fingering the fringes of Hollywood.

Phoenix portrays a worker-bee shlub named Theodore Twombly living in futuristic Los Angeles, where computer technology has made incredible advances while most everything else seems about the same, especially the fashions (men's trousers, in fact, have regressed to high-waisted sans-a-belts, giving the men a neutered look). Everyone walks around with a small device in their ears, and operating systems are so sophisticated that they now come with human-like personalities that hold running conversations with their operators.

Theodore's OS is named Samantha, and she's voiced by Scarlett Johansson, who is perfectly bright and kittenish. Theodore is finalizing his divorce from Catherine (a flat Rooney Mara) and struggling to reconcile his lingering feelings and haunting memories. Samantha, though, not only keeps him company, but also makes him feel alive again. In addition to being a cool girlfriend, Samantha possesses both maternal and god-like qualities.

Jonze makes everything a little too neat. Theodore's job is writing old-fashioned letters (printed in handwriting script to look authentic) on behalf of folks reaching out to friends and lovers. In other words, he is a whiz at creating artificial sentiments and advancing the relationships of others, but he can't get his own life in order. And he manages to connect with an all-knowing being who has been created to cater to his every need and desire, but he can't make that connection with the flesh and blood around him -- including his soon-to-be ex-wife; a disastrous blind date (Olivia Wilde) who calls him a creep; and his sweet pal Amy (the always delightful Amy Adams, seeming a tad lost here). And what of Samantha? How long is an ordinary human being going to be able to keep her engine humming? (I've dated my share of super-smart women and found it quite challenging; I can't imagine going with a gal who can read an encyclopedia and master quantum physics in the blink of an eye -- not to mention one who has unfettered access to my hard drive and my brain. How would I even begin to figure out how to please her or hold up my end of the conversation? And what's that you say -- she doesn't have a body? ... Well, then, I just give up.)

Jonze does have great ideas here -- he creates a foul-mouthed little blob who infiltrates Theodore's virtual-reality video game; he tosses in a great gag involving Alan Watts; and he creates another fun video game involving Mom duties. At one point Samantha, yearning to experience a physical presence, hires a woman to stand in her place and seduce Theodore while Samantha whispers in their ears and watches via the woman's cute mole-cam. Meantime, Jonze is earnest as hell, presenting all of this with his heart on his sleeve and a gleam in his eye.

About three-quarters of the way through, with your patience being tested, you might start wondering why this couldn't be as magical as "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind," from Michel Gondry and Jonze's pal Charlie Kaufman. (Then again, you may have your own issues with watching Jim Carrey for two hours.) Phoenix just doesn't have what it takes to pull off something so sweet and nuanced. He's doing that bizarro character he does -- similar to the freak who helped ruin P.T. Anderson's "The Master" -- but with his Groucho glasses and mustache he doesn't have much more depth than Johnny Galecki's nerdy Leonard on "The Big Bang Theory."

And, really, as much as Jonze pours every fiber of his being into this obvious labor of love, what ends up on the screen is a rather ordinary, old-fashioned love story, involving a self-centered guy who needs a monumental wake-up call in order to realize his failure to truly connect with women. Maybe that's his clever point. In many ways, I loved this movie, and it's worth seeing.

Unfortunately, in the end, the guys -- Jonze and Phoenix -- disappointed me. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn't deliver when I needed them to. They proved human and fallible. They portray themselves as whiny victims of strong or angry women.

What's to become of us?

BONUS TRACK
Early in the film -- which is filled with beautiful music, much of it by Arcade Fire -- we get an edited version of Kim Deal's epic love song, "Off You" by the Breeders. Few songs can match this perfect couplet: "I am the autumn in the scarlet; I am the makeup on your eyes." Enjoy:

New to the Queue

After the gold rush ...

The gloomy tale of adolescent boys in England, Clio Barnard's "The Selfish Giant."

The reviews are not good, but I'm still intrigued by "August: Osage County."

Belatedly, we're adding to our list, by request, the latest in the teen series "The Hunger Games: Catching Fire."

Girls in high school getting sassy with their gay best friend in "G.B.F."

A documentary about a heralded photographer reconciling his life, "In No Great Hurry: 13 Lessons in Life With Saul Leiter."

A documentary about the Mississippi River flood that prompted the migration north, "The Great Flood."

From the nation of Georgia, a coming-of-age tale set after the fall of the Soviet Union, "In Bloom."

In yet another '70s period piece, Anna Paquin is a drug-dealing mom in Florida in "Free Ride."

Love Is a Roar

PHILOMENA (B+) - An undeniably engrossing story is well-told by Stephen Frears, with a slight but smart script co-written by Steve Coogan, who co-stars as Martin Sixsmith, a former journalist and disgraced political hack who stumbles on the story of Philomena (Judi Dench), a woman forced to give her son up for adoption nearly 50 years earlier by nuns at an Irish convent that was run like a slave-labor camp.

If you're a fan of Coogan's, you'll be pleasantly surprised at his mostly dramatic turn as a frustrated freelancer with many comic moments of exasperation in dealing with Dench's title character, a simple woman with a love of romance novels and a mix of old-lady directness and small-town naivete. Dench, with her elegant wrinkles and imploring eyes, carries this off effortlessly. Some may see this as Hollywood royalty slumming as a simpleton, but she brings extraordinary warmth and depth to a character whose interesting shading is revealed as the movie unfolds. (It's not unlike Alexander Payne's "Nebraska," where those rural Plains folk came off as surprisingly nuanced and familiar. For me, it didn't hurt that ol' Dame Dench resembles my paternal grandmother here in her face and actions.)

Frears deftly walks the line between Hallmark treacle and novelistic heart-tugging. Coogan and Dench have perfect chemistry, traveling the hotels of Washington, D.C., and beyond to track down the son she hasn't known since toddlerhood. Dench is a powerful dramatic performer, but she's quite funny here, too. Coogan, one of the funniest men in showbiz, is toned down here but still delivers a punchline like few can. A nice running gag is not only Philomena's romance-novel vice, but also her habit of running off at the mouth breathlessly recounting the ridiculously complicated plots, to the eye-rolling chagrin of Sixsmith. (The book titles are a fine touch, too; the story of the Lord of the Manor who scandalously falls for the Stable Girl is dubbed "The Slipper and the Horseshoe").

Frears is a little slow out of the gate with this one, and I wished he'd given a little more time to the family Philomena did have after fleeing the evil nuns. And while Coogan holds his own with a film giant of a co-star, a few times he's merely mugging in reaction shots as if he were in a sitcom. That said, once the pieces do fall into place, this is about as enjoyable a time you can have in a movie theater.

Despite the film's minor flaws, these characters truly come to life -- he is a bitter atheist who can't find room in his heart for the nuns and their pope, and she isn't the daft old bird we think she is -- and the unveiling of the fate of Philomena and her long-lost son is undeniably gut-wrenching. Any mother's grown son will be reduced to a puddle of tears.

CUTIE AND THE BOXER (B) -A quietly affecting love story of two artists -- he is older and domineering, she is submissive and her art takes a backseat to his -- living in New York, struggling to be relevant after making their big splash decades ago and struggling to pay the rent.

Ushio Shinohara is known for his sculptures of motorcycles and also the paintings in which he attaches a big sponge to the nose of a boxing glove and punches the paint onto the canvas. His wife, Noriko (22 years his junior), came from Japan and sought him out as a mentor. Eventually she created the character Cutie, who stars in a comic-strip-style series of works with her man Bullie.

The suggestions here are not so subtle. He's a boxer or a bully; she's an innocent cutie-pie in pigtails. Director Zachary Heinzerling takes his time warming up here, letting the couple's ordinary home life (she hates the way he slurps his food) establish the atmosphere for a good half hour. A bigger theme emerges in the second half hour, as Cutie chafes under Ushio's domineering ways and all but rejoices when he takes a trip to Japan (to hawk a sculpture) and gives her room to breathe and focus on her own art. (When he returns with precious rent money, they smell the hundreds and count them and store them in ceremonial fashion.) Turns out, Ushio was a raging alcoholic for decades before doctors ordered him to quit a couple of years ago; their lethargic Americanized son who visits has inherited the habit (he gulps his wine). 

It's in the final 20 minutes -- if you can make it that far -- where Heinzerling drives it all home, quite effectively. At an opening for Ushio -- who has struggled to create quality work in recent months -- Noriko is granted a side room for Cutie, and it's a chance for her to quietly assert herself. (He wants the show to be titled "Roar" -- she unilaterally amends it to "Love Is a Roar.") We finally get a full rendering of their relationship -- not loveless, exactly, but practical in an old-world way -- and an appreciation for the life of low-status artists eking out a living and learning to live and love together. We glimpse a devastating scene out of a home movie from decades ago of Ushio having a drunken breakdown, and Heinzerling ends things with shots of the couple going about their business, workmanlike and respectful. It's a touching scene.

The Saddest Music in the World

THE BROKEN CIRCLE BREAKDOWN (A) - This folk-song ballet elegantly dances the fine line between sweet and bittersweet. It's one of the saddest movies I've ever seen, but it's so fully realized and so masterfully assembled -- infused with profoundly moving roots music -- that its devastating effects are offset by a life-affirming message.

Didier (Johan Heldenbergh) and Elise (Veerle Baetens) meet in her tattoo shop in Ghent, Belgium, around the turn of the millennium. They have hot sex, he further seduces her with his music, and soon they unexpectedly conceive a child, a little girl they call Maybelle, after the matriarch of the Carter music clan, because the couple are infatuated with America -- or, rather, the myth of rural America. Didier plays banjo and fronts a rollicking bluegrass band, singing folk/country classics in English, to growing acclaim, with Elise eventually joining in on vocals. Little Maybelle is suffering with cancer, and the first half of the movie perpetually tugs at your heartstrings as we watch her withstand her treatments. The girl also violently mourns a bird that has crashed into the family's glass "terranda" (a crude pastiche of terrace and veranda). That episode is milked for both comedy and somber symbolism, as Didier, a rigid atheist, is incapable of finding meaning in the bird's life or death and is downright impatient with evolution's progress in teaching those flying creatures about framed glass. (He does, however, later manage to convey the concept of eternal life to his daughter through celestial science.)

It's Didier's intransigence in the face of anything spiritual or mystical that wears on Elise, who wants to believe in the magic of the unknown, who wants the next bird on the windowsill to be carrying a message from the beyond. The film notably spans the recent Bush presidency, laying bare that myth of American infallibility, from the 9/11 attacks to W's veto of stem-cell research, the type of hard science that could save Maybelle's life.

I can't remember a time when I cried so often during a film; not just at a tender ending but multiple times throughout. The first time was when Maybelle comes back home from a long hospital stay and she's greeted by Didier's bandmates, who surprise her inside the house and clown through a campy a cappella version of "The Lion Sleeps Tonight." Another was during a heart-wrenching duet between Didier and Elise -- on the verge of breaking up -- of Townes van Zandt's yearning "If I Needed You." That's not to mention a soul-crushing rendition of the traditional spiritual "Wayfaring Stranger," with its invocation of a family reunited in heaven, free of sickness and toil.



Director Felix van Groeningen lets many of the songs play out in full, giving them a deep resonance.
Other gems include the Loretta Lynn hit "Country in My Genes," Lyle Lovett's "Cowboy Man" and the quasi-title track, "Will the Circle Be Unbroken." Heldenbergh and Baetens perform their own music (see them out of character with the BCB Band above), and I was reminded more than once of an old favorite of mine, "Honeysuckle Rose," with Willie Nelson (& Family) and Dyan Cannon as a fussin' and feudin' stage couple; I wouldn't be surprised if some homage was intended.

Van Groeningen employs a complicated flashback style that is ingenious and never confusing. He creates layers of emotion and slyly drops in key information at critical times. It is masterful storytelling, always moving and never maudlin.

Heldenbergh and Baetens draw the viewer in gradually. His face brings to mind a shaggy Stephen Rea; she has a strong-boned beauty that is a mix of innocent Reese Witherspoon and intense Maria Bello. Elise is a fascinating character -- an uber-tattooed blond sex goddess partial to stars-and-stripes bikinis yet also a submissive spouse and a worried mom. The film explores that madonna-whore conundrum, as Elise struggles with her identity (she has, over the years, covered up several men's names from her body art), choosing eventually to return to the tattoo shop and change her name to Alabama. (Their pronunciation of her very American nickname is one of the movie's joys.) She dubs him Monroe (as in Bill), and their transformation into 21st century hillbilly icons is complete.

But where does it leave them? When Didier/Monroe reaches out his hand to Elise/Alabama during "If I Needed You" she refuses to fill it with her own. After the song, he goes on a long, vicious rant to the audience about Bush's idiotic flag-waving fundamentalism and its detrimental effect on science. It's a very public breakdown and it's more than his wife can handle; it leads to her own very real breakdown.

She tells him at one point that happiness is essentially a temporary illusion; the gods just won't permit a blissful family life to continue. It all breaks down eventually, and we return to the reality of life: bitter, sweet, bleak and draining. What comes after this grueling existence on Earth? Is there a heaven among the stars, one where we are reunited with loved ones? Do we return as a bird perched on a windowsill?

Fade to black.

BONUS TRACK
Emmylou Harris' version of "Wayfaring Stranger":


  

So I Don't Have To

In a new feature, we present capsule reviews from correspondents who go see the movies that we don't have an interest in seeing.  Today, veteran filmgoer Phillip Blanchard chimes in on "Prisoners," which stars Hugh Jackman.

In the New York Times, A.O. Scott wrote: 

It’s all very creepy and mysterious, and “Prisoners” is, among other things, a satisfying whodunit, with artfully deposited clues and twists that are surprising without entirely undermining the film’s naturalistic credibility.

"Prisoners"  is creepy, but not very mysterious. In one kind of whodunit, clues are "deposited" but the solution is contrary to the clues. That's a cheat. In another, the culprit's identity is so obvious early on that you have to look elsewhere for a challenge. "Prisoners" is the latter kind. You know so early on who did "it" that you hope for a cheat to prove yourself wrong. No cheat follows. With the solution made clear in the first 15 minutes or so, there is no satisfaction in having figured it out.

GRADE: B

Jolly Old England

Two titles from a few years back, looking way back:

THE KING'S SPEECH (2010) (A-minus) - I missed this buzzworthy title on its original release, and you certainly don't need my full review. The film has a job to do and does it well. Colin Firth is fine as the stuttering King George VI who must overcome his disability in order to lead his country as an assuring figurehead during World War II.

The real star, though is Geoffrey Rush as Lionel Logue, the speech therapist and frustrated thespian. That long weathered face of his speaks volumes, and it seems as though Firth struggles a bit to keep up with Rush. At times, their dialogue crackles, such as when Logue tells his royal client that he shouldn't smoke:

King: My physicians say it relaxes the throat.
Logue: They're idiots.
King: They've all been knighted.
Logue: Makes it official, then.

It's also fun to see acting legends Michael Gambon ("The Singing Detective") and Derek Jacobi ("I, Claudius") in supporting roles. My criticisms are minor: The script can get clunky when characters are required to recite short history lessons in order to move the plot along. And the overall story as presented here is just a wee bit precious, with a BBC/PBS sheen. Finally, it's hard at times to feel that there's all that much at stake for the royal family or the nation. It's to Firth's credit that he makes us care about one man's personal struggle.  

THE DEEP BLUE SEA (2011) (A-minus) - This was a re-viewing of one of our favorites from recent years. Rachel Weisz is brilliant as Hester Collyer, a postwar British woman trapped in both a loveless marriage and an unsatisfying affair with a good-time charlie. Terence Davies ("Distant Voices, Still Lives") lends his mystical, nostalgic touch to a somber play by Terence Rattigan ("The Winslow Boy").

The film opens on Hester's failed suicide attempt and then fills in her backstory from the war years. She's a modern woman living in a pummeled society that is clinging to its traditions as it struggles to recover from the horrors of war. She aches with desire and seems doomed to live an unfulfilled existence.

Davies coats the story in amber, and he expertly captures a transitional era. Several times, like in "Distant Voices," he treats us to the sights and sounds of a bar full of patrons conducting a sing-along. In one instance, their version of "You Belong to Me" segues into Jo Stafford's classic version. Like that song, this compact drama is a perfect mix of sorrow and bliss.

NOTE: I was tempted last weekend to present our second Inadvertent Double Feature, because THIS TV, the next night, was coincidentally airing "Deep Blue Sea," a Renny Harlin underwater thriller starring Samuel L. Jackson from 1999, but I couldn't get past the opening scene of a shark attack on bikini-clad coeds, and I was haunted by the thought of endless commercials about life alerts and reverse mortgages.

Ah, to be young and violent ...

SPRING BREAKERS (B-minus) - I was going to take a pass on Harmony Korine's neon spectacle, but it was making some annual Top 20 lists, so I popped it to the top of my rental queue. Turns out, it was pretty much what I expected.

Four girls -- three randy blonds and a Jesus-loving brunette (that's the only way Korine tries to distinguish them; otherwise they are interchangeable) -- are left behind on campus with insufficient funds while everyone else is in Florida on spring break, so they do the only sensible thing they can think of: they knock off a fast-food joint. (The good girl merely drives the getaway car.) Soon, they are mixing in with the beautiful bods gyrating and binge-drinking on the beach. (NOTE: This takes place in that special Gidget movie world where every single college kid  in a swimsuit has a perfectly toned body. It isn't until near the end of the movie -- when two women of color show up, interestingly -- that characters have a surplus of natural meat on their bones.)

One of the parties gets busted, and the girls -- still in their colorful bikinis -- end up in court and then in jail, until they are bailed out by a gold-toothed, dreadlocked creep named Alien, played with outlandish actorly zeal by James Franco. The good girl wants to leave, but the others, having greal otten a glimpse of the dark side wielding squirt guns during the earlier heist, are being seduced by the guns, money and drugs and the idea of truly being bad.

Korine offers some wonderfully bizarre touches -- such as Alien inartfully tinkling at an outdoor piano while crafting an impromptu ode to his new "chickies" or the girls breaking into their favorite Britney Spears song in a parking lot and playfully re-creating the heist they just pulled. He also captures some memorable images (like the one of the girls doing handstands in the dorm hallway). Too often, though, Korine is content to cut to stock beach scenes of topless women and frat-boy mayhem.

The question is how far will these young women go? Are they just playing Alien and planning to rob him of his stash? Like the pampered girls in "The Bling Ring" (with their hardcore rap soundtrack), do they think they can live the gangsta life? Are they too stupid to realize what they've gotten into? Are they on a journey to find their true selves? Are they safe because it's not really a scary guy but just James Franco hamming it up and merely pretending to be one?

Korine never lets on here. He's content with splashing the screen with his eye-popping images (color-enhanced in post-production to great effect). For me, this never managed to rise above a mix of "Fast Times at Ridgemont High" and "Natural Born Killers." My date, from the female perspective, enjoyed this more, connecting with the young women and their daring walk on the wild side.

The last straw for me was the ending, which is just ridiculous. I'm absolutely sick of shoot-outs in which an average joe with a gun takes out a whole battalion of gangsters who can't shoot straight or land even one glancing bullet. If Korine was trying to remind us that life is random and absurd, well, then a few points for him. But I don't think that was his plan. He was just trying to use highly stylized violence and bright-yellow bikinis to show us how cool it can be to be bad.