Archive for November, 2011

Is This Man Our Next Clooney?

Posted: November 23, 2011 in movie reviews



What’s interesting about George Clooney’s new film (as a Director) is how similar it is to its subject matter: like American politics, it is slick, shiny, and ultimately a little shallow and unsatisfying. This was a disappointment to me, as I consider Clooney’s film GOODNIGHT, AND GOOD LUCK not just one of the great American political movies, but one of the ten most important films of the first decade of the 21st Century. THE IDES OF MARCH is not that important. It’s not a satire, and it’s not Clooney’s Huge, Important Film About American Politics. I’m so convinced that Clooney will eventually make his Huge, Important Film About American Politics that it’s odd to me he’s made this one: his small, entertaining film about American politics.

It’s fun, to be sure: a very brisk ride through campaign politics – in this case, that of a very small “l” liberal (Democrat) candidate against his “Primary” campaign opponents, told from the point of view of his secondary Campaign Advisor, excellently played (as always – is this guy the new Clooney or what?) by Ryan Gosling. Gosling is the new Clooney – he’s in everything, has got a rep for being smart and sexy and extremely capable, but his presence in a film hardly guarantees big box office (and, if you think this isn’t the case with Clooney, think again: basically, his only big hits are the Ocean’s movies). Gosling, like Clooney, seems destined to be a movie star forever – and the unique kind that doesn’t require a massive public following to keep him there, because his smaller public following is already so dedicated, so enamored. It also seems like destiny that these two should be working together – the two “thinking man’s sex symbols”, critic’s and director’s darlings, celebrities for the arthouse crowd. Indeed, the (excellent) poster for THE IDES OF MARCH shows a “Time” magazine cover folded vertically in half, so that the cover subject – a close up of Clooney – is fleshed to fullness by half of Gosling’s face: could it say any more clearly: Gosling is the new Clooney, and in this film we’re gonna cement that for you?

The acting is all first rate. Evan Rachel Wood is once again outstanding as a campaign intern; Marisa Tomei plays against type as an unlikeable journo politico, as does Jeffrey Wright as a swinging Senator. But the best moments in the movie come from Philip Seymour Hoffman and Paul Giamatti as the Chief Managers of Clooney’s and his rival’s campaigns: as two heavy-hitters fighting for Gosling’s soul, these two acting heavyweights give a masterclass in high-status characterization, and each has a knock-out scene full of meaty monologues and indignant emotion. Gosling is with each of them, respectively, for these scenes, and you can see not only the character but the actor patiently supporting them, learning from them, ready – and destined – to ultimately take their place.

There’s Something About Tilda

Posted: November 22, 2011 in movie reviews


I haven’t read Lionel Shriver’s hugely popular novel, but after seeing We Need To Talk About Kevin, Lynne Ramsay’s adaptation (with co-screenwriter Rory Kinnear), I think I’d like to. I know that the book is told as a series of letters, but the film eschews this approach – there is no voiceover, no letter-writing or reading. Indeed, given the complexity of the film’s structure, I have a feeling that the novel was a challenge to adapt, and that, essentially, Ramsay had to take a big artistic leap in bringing it to the screen in a cinematic way. She’s fractured the story’s narrative, leaping back and forth from an ongoing sequence in the present to a series of scenes from the past that are, themselves, not revealed in strict chronological order. The result is an extremely dream-like film with a nightmarish subject, and with, as far as I can determine, no clear genre model, which is another reason I’m very curious to read the book. The film could not really be called a horror movie, and I’m wary of calling it a psychological thriller. Perhaps it is simply an extremely intense family drama.

In the present we find Eva, whose modest suburban house and run-down car have both been savagely vandalized overnight in lashings of blood-red paint. Eva’s off to a job interview. She is a haunted woman – especially as played by Tilda Swinton. Swinton is so perfect in this part that it’s truly one of those cases whereby, at the end, you feel that no-one else could have played the role – and yet on paper it doesn’t seem like a “Tilda Swinton” part: an American, a mother… an American suburban mother? But things aren’t as neat and tidy as that, and as the film plays out, and the character of Eva reveals itself more fully, you grow to grasp why Ramsay was so intuitively brilliant to cast her in the role. Parts of it are suited to the Swinton some of us assume as appropriate to her style; they’re just not the elements you immediately perceive.

This present is interspersed with the story of Eva and her husband Franklin (played effortlessly and big-heartedly by John C. Reilly) bringing up their two children, Kevin and Celia. But it’s really about the relationship between Eva and Kevin, which is seemingly cursed from the moment of birth, if not before. It is a relationship beyond toxic. Eva does not seem to possess many of the qualities a parent must have; she is very far from a “natural” mother and has to work extremely hard to engage with Kevin in any joyful way. That said, perhaps no mother could: Kevin, from his earliest earthly moments, seems to completely reject Eva, and it appears to be his life’s mission to make hers a living hell.

Kevin is played by two actors – young Jasper Newell and teenage Ezra Miller – who look so alike that you could happily assume that real brothers were cast. They also both look a little evil, and Ramsay directs them and shoots them to play this up: they both have mastered the stare that Nicholson used in The Shining and that Vincent D’Onofrio deployed in the defining moment of Full Metal Jacket: head down, eyes up, mouth open, deadly thoughts assumed. The kids are both good, but they’re good at playing evil, in, I’m afraid, a one-note way, and so the film, for me, doesn’t contain any interior debate: I basically am sure I know who’s at fault here. Again, I’ll be interested to see if the book holds more ambiguity, or more challenges: if it’s as much about bad mothering as about a bad seed. Because in the movie, Kevin is definitely a bad seed.

Ramsay (Morvern Callar, Ratcatcher) is a thoughtful, obviously intelligent director and the apparent obviousness of where blame lies in the film is at odds with its otherwise complex elements: it is highly stylized, requires realistic dialogue to carry important moments subtly, and is a little challenging in its narrative structure (but not to the point of being precious). I don’t know if the source material could have ever created a great film adaptation without jumping some genre line-in-the-sand: if the book is essentially a literary novel with horrific elements, the film could have perhaps worked better as a horror movie with arthouse overtones. Instead, it’s defiantly an art movie with horror elements, and thus only as scary as those aspirations allow it to be. All that said, it’s certainly unnerving, Swinton is a knockout, and it’s way more interesting than many, many dead-set “horror” films. Don’t see it if you’re pregnant. Seriously.