Bittersweet: The Dark Side of Chocolate

If you're alone (or with other single friends) this Valentine's Day and are seeking the perfect downer for the occasion, look no further than The Dark Side of Chocolate. While millions of couples will express their love for each other with extravagantly wrapped boxes of candied cocoa of unknown origin, you can rest easy that you're not supporting what amounts to slave labor in regions of West Africa.

To be sure, for most people The Dark Side of Chocolate will be more personal and thus more disturbing than a documentary about the ugly underbelly of, say, the dried fruit industry. After all, chocolate is a globally traded commodity (or rather, cocoa is), a $50 billion/year worldwide business, and a veritable drug for women everywhere - and a few men, too, including me.

Concerned and curious about rumors of child labor on cocoa plantations in Ivory Coast, intrepid Danish journalist Miki Mistrati set off with a hidden camera and a bag full of questions about the source of the precious cocoa used by the world's leading chocolate manufacturers (The Hershey Company, Mars, Cadbury, Nestlé, and others). What he would find, tragically, is that children as young as seven years old are clearly being trafficked from neighboring countries to work in cocoa plantations for little to no pay. If the lack of an actual war prevents your favorite confection from being considered "conflict" chocolate, you should still feel conflicted about eating it.

Taking It Home: Inside Job

Finally, it all makes sense. Mostly.

Listening to the media echo chamber discuss President Obama's tax deal this week, I realized that it's been more than two months since I saw Charles Ferguson's illuminating Inside Job, and, shockingly, I think I still understand his deft explanation of the reasons behind the financial meltdown and, consequently, our current panic about tax rates and unemployment benefits. After numerous films - including but not limited to Capitalism: A Love Story (0/2 for Michael Moore after he dropped the health care ball with the forgettable Sicko), American Casino, Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps, and even The Other Guys - tried and failed to explain what led to The Great Recession, Ferguson's film was like a breath of fresh air, illustrating the financial foolishness in terms that anyone can understand. Good thing, too, because as I said in my pan of the meaningless Wall Street, this was probably the last chance The Recession Movie had to establish itself as a viable genre.

Why was it so hard to present this financial information in a clear way prior to this film? To be fair it does require a lot of detailed explanation, and when filmmakers have other things on their minds (melodrama and an Oscar in the case of Stone's Wall Street; comedy and I-don't-know-what in the case of Moore's Capitalism), the meat of the subject at hand is guaranteed to be lost. Inside Job, in contrast, has little else on it's mind other than telling us what happened and, not accidentally, making us feel really angry about it. This isn't necessarily a fair and balanced documentary (and maybe not a documentary at all?), but it nonetheless presents the facts and allows educated people to talk about them, even though in this case the facts really speak for themselves.

300 Words About: Howl

Hmm...people had a hard time understanding my poetry...how will they understand this film?

To be perfectly honest, I went into Howl at a distinct disadvantage: I've never connected much with the Beat Generation, and I find a lot of poetry just plain bewildering. Put it to music or use imagery that I understand and I'm good, but meditate on "peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery dawns", as Allen Ginsberg does in his infamous poem, "Howl", and I'm lost.

Call me culturally illiterate, but I'm afraid that while I understand the social significance of the poem in its time (both as a cathartic statement and as a legal precedent), it just has no emotional resonance for me at all. Should this have affected my viewing of Howl? Probably, but since much of the film is animated I didn't have to do much heavy lifting anyway. The metaphors and raw passion were brought to life for me, so all I had to do was try and understand, which I did with infrequent success.

In theory I love the idea of bringing poetry to cinematic life for the very reasons I've mentioned: it helps me make some sense of the underlying meaning. But "Howl", with its huge cultural and historic significance, may not have been the best poem to explore in this way. The entire film should have been animated, or the entire film should have been a legal drama about obscenity and censorship in the 1950's, or the entire film should have been a biopic of Ginsberg (heck, maybe it just should have been a documentary).

Instead, Howl is all three, and suffers because of it (even if I admire the fact that none of the dialogue was scripted). I was tossed around from the courtroom to a living room to a coffeehouse to an animated nightmare. It was disorienting and, apart from James Franco's committed performance, it made disappointingly little use of a terrific cast featuring Jeff Daniels, Jon Hamm, and David Strathairn.

The end of the film is much tidier than the rest of it, and underscores, at least to me, that directors Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman were more interested in telling the story of the poem than exploring the poem in the story, as if the meaning of the lines in "Howl" should be obvious to anyone who reads them (in a Q & A after the screening I attended, the directors talked almost exclusively about the technical aspects of making the film). Well, consider this viewer a little more enlightened about why "Howl" received so much attention, but still pretty much in the dark about what half of it actually means.

Fall Film Festobonanza, Part 5: 20 Years of Milestone Films @ the Trylon & Macalester Film Series on Global Justice

Killer of Sheep & The Bicycle Thief

What: Milestone’s 20th: Two Decades of Enduring Artistry

Where: Trylon Microcinema

When: Oct 1 - 31

What: Macalester Alumni Fall 2010 Film Series: "Global Justice"

Where: John B. Davis Lecture Hall (JBD), Ruth Stricker Dayton Campus Center

When: September 22 - November 10

Just when I thought the programming at the Trylon microcinema couldn't get more varied (past series have featured Cronenberg, Spielberg, Godard, and Harryhausen, to name a few), along comes a true mixed bag of classic films: Milestone’s 20th: Two Decades of Enduring Artistry.

MSPIFF 2010: Week 2 Roundup

The final week of MSPIFF 2010 (yes, the one that ended ten days ago...) proved alternately frustrating and fulfilling. I only made it to an additional four films, easily amassing my lowest total since I moved back to Minnesota four years ago. There was a long list of films that I missed, but I prefer to reflect on the fact that nothing I saw was outright terrible.
 

My Only Sunshine - Plans to see the sold-out Today's Special were foiled on a packed-to-the-gills Friday night, so we opted for a Turkish film, My Only Sunshine (an appropriate choice as we'll be on our honeymoon in Turkey in just a few weeks). As breathtaking and vivid as the cinematography was, My Only Sunshine does not make Istanbul a particularly appealing place; maybe compare it to New York City as seen in Chop Shop. On the other hand, it was fascinating to observe the environment and cultural quirks of Istanbul that I'm sure we won't see on our brief and touristy stop to the teeming seaside city of 12 million people. My Only Sunshine is a slice-of-life story as experienced by Hayat (Elit Iscan), an adolescent girl living with her troubled father and dying grandfather (the effects of emphysema caused by smoking have truly never been captured on film as they are captured here). You expect it to develop into a warm coming-of-age tale, but despite a few laughs and a completely tacked-on happy ending, it's an altogether bleak depiction of a lost childhood in Istanbul. Nonetheless, I remained engaged throughout and the production had the decidedly "foreign film" feel that I specifically seek at these festivals.

MSPIFF 2010: Week 1 Roundup

I made it to only three films during the first week of MSPIFF 2010 - significantly fewer than any other year in recent memory, but a major feat nonetheless considering all things (moving, working, wedding planning, etc.). I still have ambitious plans to make it to ten total films before the festival wraps up next Friday, though it may require booting up my time machine or employing the Zack Morris Time-Out.

Thoughts on the first three, in order of viewing:

Bananas!* - That both the exclamation point and asterisk in the title go entirely unexplained during this documentary is a curiosity, as is the fact that it's really not about fruit at all. While Swedish filmmaker (emphasis on Swedish, because this film is produced and titled in a decidedly non-American way) Fredrik Gertten presents an admittedly interesting legal drama about the Dole corporation's use of a controversial pesticide that rendered sterile a significant number of the company's banana farmers in rural Nicaragua, the film is the victim of unfortunate timing as it exists as simply a lesser version of last year's Crude, which had an almost identical story to tell about ExxonMobil and a community in Ecuador (including a championing American lawyer using the "David vs. Goliath" analogy). 

I'm glad I saw Bananas!* because the courtroom scenes are engrossing and issues like this deserve to be shared with the world, but at the same time I don't feel I received a complete picture of the banana industry.The film boasts the already tired claim that we'll "never look at ______ (insert bananas) the same way again", which is partly true. I'll never look at them the same way again without wondering, "why didn't I learn more about bananas from Bananas!*?"

The Oath - Leave an Oscar nomination slot open on your ballot next year for Laura Poitras' riveting documentary about Osama bin Laden's former bodyguard, Abu Jindal, and his ideological struggle to remain loyal to the al-Qaeda oath without advocating terrorism. As I've already mentioned, Poitras was previously nominated for My Country, My Country, an underrated film about an Iraqi doctor in the months following the U.S. invasion in 2003 (Poitras, an American, was reportedly placed on a no-fly list because of the film's critical stance). This is the second film in her planned "trilogy" about Iraq, and I'm here to tell you that the positive buzz out of Sundance in January was warranted. Summarizing the storyline is not really helpful, but suffice to say it is extremely rare that you will see a documentary cover this much material and still remain grounded in its primary subjects.

If you have any interest in international relations, history, war, terrorism, Guantanamo Bay, the Supreme Court, Islam, or the Middle East, The Oath may be considered required viewing. Not surprisingly, it will be broadcast as part of the upcoming P.O.V. season on PBS (My Country, My Country was a selection during the 2006 season). If you miss it theatrically don't miss the chance to see it for free at home. 

Night Catches Us -  I noted in my festival preview that Night Catches Us is an example of a film rarely screened as part of MSPIFF (no doubt the influence of guest programmer Linda Blackaby), and sure enough there were only a couple dozen people at the Wednesday night screening. Oh well, those who missed it missed out. On the surface, Tanya Hamilton's directing debut doesn't necessarily transcend the familiar trappings of other racial-historical dramas, but there's no denying this really is an unique story that lingers in the mind for further reflection. The Hurt Locker standout Anthony Mackie shows impressive leading man potential as a former Black Panther re-acclimating to life in 1976 Philadelphia. Kerry Washington holds her own as his moral compass and love interest, but the film belongs to Mackie whenever he is on screen, almost to a distracting degree. To boot, the cinematography is beautifully absorbing and the original music by Philadelphia natives The Roots adds immediacy and authenticity.

The film does not dive headlong into the history of the Black Panthers, but then this is a film about relationships, not politics. Nonetheless, it's easy to view the Panthers' militant spirit in the context of the brewing social unrest in America in 2010 (earlier in the day I'd listened to a local right-wing conservative radio host justify violence on behalf of the Tea Party by quoting JFK: "Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable.") . In any case, whatever Tanya Hamilton's motive was in telling this story I hope she receives a deserved amount of attention for it.

300 Words About: American Casino

I don't know about you, but I find it such a relief when I learn I'm not the only one who doesn't understand what appears to be a simple issue, in this case the mortgage crisis. When a financial analyst in American Casino compared the financial calculations behind this entire mess as operating in the 4th dimension, I thought, Yep, that sounds about right.

We had a minority of bankers and brokers who developed an esoteric financial language that no one else could understand, and a majority of Americans who regularly buy fast food with credit cards and throw away unopened bank and credit card statements informing them of interest rate hikes. The eventual result, of course, is this mortgage-backed recession we've found ourselves in over the past two years. American Casino, which began filming in early 2008, illustrates what went wrong and who was affected. As you can imagine, it's not a pretty picture.

REVIEW: Crude (A)

As I see it, the disappointing increase in popularity and production of Michael Moore-style "agit-docs" (agit, short for agitating) over the last few years has seriously threatened to diminish the credibility of actual documentary films. These days I unfortunately flinch whenever I hear about any new documentary that even appears to be about a social issue, because chances are it's going to be much more style than substance. 

Consider Hoop Dreams as an example, and think about how that same film would be produced in 2009. It would not be Steve James patiently and unobtrusively observing William Gates and Arthur Agee as two young boys trying to discover their potential. It would be an activist filmmaker abandoning their story in order to apply a blurry lens to the salacious societal ills on display on Chicago's South Side. There would be interviews with experts and celebrities and certainly Oprah, and a tidy list of "what you can do" chores would precede the credits. Everybody would leave feeling simultaneously horrified and puffed up with pride, but you'd have almost no insight into the actual life experiences of Gates and Agee.

I say all of this to explain why, almost regardless of who made it or what it's about, I am automatically suspicious that a "socially conscious" documentary in 2009 won't actually document a story so much as create one; propaganda is the tool that leads people to action, so people must be force-fed any message a filmmaker thinks we are too dense to understand on our own. As such, when I saw the ominous tagline for Crude ("The real price of oil."), I was ready to lump it in with the rest as an over-stylized, under-educating "call to action". Thankfully, I was completely wrong.

Taking It Home: Capitalism: A Love Story

("Taking It Home" is an alternative review style in which I share my thoughts on a movie's themes and how they may relate to my life, while focusing less on the acting, writing, technical aspects, or even plot of the film. It's a collection of the ideas I took home, "because the movie experience shouldn't end in the theater".)

 

 A method even less effective at inspiring change than Michael Moore's films...

Next time I get the opportunity to ask Michael Moore a question, I hope it will be part of an actual conversation instead of a Q & A where he has the microphone and I'm buried in the audience. That way he won't be able to sneak out of answering my challenge so easily. Yes, in a fit of frustration following a recent screening of Capitalism: A Love Story, I worked up the nerve to ask American's most notorious documentarian how he made a 126-minute film about money and capitalism without so much as mentioning personal financial responsibility. More on that later - including a video of Moore "answering" my question.

I have a tortured history with Moore, alternately considering him a genius, even a role model, before inevitably changing my mind and viewing his work as purely propagandic, sensational, and even counterproductive. Incidentally, I'm surprised that I have yet to discuss his films in any detail on Getafilm, I suppose a result of Sicko arriving a month or so before I started writing here (though you can see I came down pretty hard on it come Oscar time anyway). 

In any event, somewhere between Bowling for Columbine and Fahrenheit 9/11 I realized Moore was  abandoning true documentary filmmaking - what I conservatively prefer to view as non-fiction storytelling - for something resembling schizophrenic scrapbooking. His arguments (never mind that documentarians shouldn't really make any) are an amalgamation of liberal talking points and moral sermonizing, but the resulting films are so disjointed they inhibit any in-depth thought or discussion about the issues at hand. He doesn't quite dilute the messages in his films so much as he drowns them out with his own voice, sometimes figuratively but always literally. Thanks to Michael Moore, a Michael Moore film is never allowed to speak for itself.

So what to think of Capitalism: A Love Story, which Moore claims is a culmination of all of his films since Roger & Me? Three things: 1.) this is not only one of Moore's longest films, but also his most deliberately emotional one; 2.) possibly by design but probably by accident, Capitalism: A Love Story ends up making a much stronger case for universal health care than Sicko did; and 3.) Moore is ultimately still more interested in inciting audiences than inspiring them, which is a tragedy considering the global reach and box-office success of his films.

REVIEW: Forgiven (B)

Paul Fitzgerald's Forgiven explores a familiar story with a familiar lesson, but it stands apart from most character dramas because of the boldness with which it approaches some pretty thorny subjects: racism, American politics, murder, capital punishment, corruption, betrayal, redemption and, of course, forgiveness. In fact one of the film's weaknesses is a sense that perhaps it bit off more than it could chew, resulting in a narrative that plays like a television series condensed into 81 minutes. At the same time, however, this breadth of focus is also one of Forgiven's strengths because it illustrates how interconnected many of this social issues are.

After receiving a pardon from the Governor of North Carolina mere moments before his execution for a murder conviction, Ronald Bradler (Russell Hornsby) finds himself suddenly back in society, aimless, jobless, and very near to hopeless. He had maintained his innocence of the crime to the execution gurney, and now, angry about the years he lost on death row and the social stigma attached to his identity as a convicted felon, he's seeking retribution. His primary target is the former D.A. who prosecuted the case against him, Peter Miles (Paul Fitzgerald, who also wrote and directed the film). The timing couldn't be worse for Miles; he is in the home stretch of a U.S. Senate campaign and can't afford any skeletons in his closet aside from the drug and alcohol abuse he's already admitted.

The real seed of Bradler's frustration is the implicit role he felt his race played in the case - until he learns of known evidence that could have cleared him just weeks after the trial. When Miles denies any wrongdoing and brushes off Bradler's meeting requests by telling him to "move on" and "get on with your life", well let's just say things get out of hand quickly.

Forgiven arrives at a time in this country when accusations of racism and power are beginning to enter almost every national conversation. About education, about health care, about taxes, about unemployment and, most recently, about civility. I'm a little surprised prison populations and the justice system haven't received any attention in 2009, but if Forgiven hits the right chord it has the potential to be a catalyst. I don't think that's Fitzgerald's motive, however, so it's unfair to peg Forgiven as an "issue" movie, but rather one that attempts to test a viewer's sympathy for its characters as they stumble through a difficult situation - a situation that requires conditional forgiveness for unconditionally terrible crimes. Fitzgerald and Hornsby offer strong performances, but the acting in general is a bit uneven, with a few strained, emotional outbursts that unfortunately reminded me of the overacting in 21 Grams.

And while I ultimately found the ending to be a little more disturbing than it may have been designed to be, I think that caused Forgiven to linger for a few days, challenging me to consider the motives and justifications of its character's actions. I'm blessed not to have yet experienced a "wrong" in my life that would beg the question of forgiveness at this level (i.e., rape, murder, war crimes, imprisonment, etc.), but this movie in some way makes me consider how I would act under such circumstances. And in doing that - in asking challenging questions and not necessarily offering easy answers, Forgiven achieves its goal.

Grade:
Writing - 8
Acting - 7
Production - 8
Emotional Impact - 9
Music - 5
Social Significance - 5

Total: 42/50= 84% = B

Forgiven is currently available on Amazon's Video On Demand, and can also be added to your Netflix queue in advance of its DVD release.

An Inconvenient Food

(Food, Inc. opens tomorrow at the Landmark Lagoon Theater. This is a long and scattered follow-up to my preview of the film from April.)

It wasn't too long ago that Morgan Spurlock's mischievous Super Size Me successfully, and perhaps surprisingly, ended any argument in this country about the ill effects of consuming fast food. McDonald's immediately swapped their triple cheeseburgers (I remember eating one as a part of a Jurassic Park promotional meal that was literally fit for a dinosaur) and Super Sized fries for garden salads and apple slices; their audacious recent marketing campaign spelling out slogans in fruits and vegetables only brings to mind the music video for Peter Gabriel's "Sledgehammer", not necessarily a new identity.

Kentucky Fried Chicken, on the other hand, recently went so far as to launch a risky marketing campaign that wags a finger at their very own brand - fried chicken - in favor of a new line of Kentucky Grilled Chicken. Ooh. Whether these blatant about-faces in the fast food industry will result in a healthier populace is, in my opinion, unlikely, but that won't stop people from believing it. You may have noticed that in the face of this recession, fast food corporations haven't appeared to suffer quite as much as other American businesses.

So we're still eating plenty of fast food (or not, in my case), but we're making sure to order the side of fruit salad instead of cheese fries. Spurlock helped transform an industry and at least indirectly affect people's eating habits, while those of us who were not fast food loyalists in the first place, well we've just been able to scoff at the whole affair and continue to indulge in our own self-righteously "healthy" diets.

Until now.

Fast food establishments aside, it's evidently also no longer even safe, or in some cases even moral, to eat food from your local supermarket.

Like the indigestion that follows when you have one too many toaster-ovened Tyson Stuffed Chicken Cordon Bleu Minis (I looked them up), Robert Kenner's convicting documentary Food, Inc. leaves you squirming in your chair with a sweaty brow, taking a silent oath that you'll never eat that way again. Of course, decisions are always easiest made away from their corresponding action, and when your friend slides a basket of crisp, seasoned fries your way at the restaurant after the movie, well then you'll discover if your fears will really change your actions.

It should be noted that Kenner's documentary is arriving a little late in the game. Since Super Size Me, the documentaries Our Daily Bread and King Corn have criticized the food industry, while Richard Linklater's Fast Food Nation proved both that slaughterhouses are hellish dungeons and Avril Lavigne can't act. But where those films tried to deliver shock treatments that would send you out of the theater in an ill state, Food, Inc. uses a bit of a softer approach. Not quite as soft as Al Gore's soothing voiceovers behind shots of idyllic creeks, but still relatively gore-free, if not Gore-free, as it were. Kenner rightly assumes that legal injustices, animal abuse, and human rights violations can be just as disgusting as bloody carcasses, making Food, Inc. much more watchable than you might expect walking into the theater.

The film's central thesis, as I understand it, is that the industrialization of food production in the United States has created a perfect storm of greed and carelessness, which has in turn led to countless economic, health-related, and community-based problems, including but not limited to obesity, unemployment, exploitation of factory workers, bacteria-laden meat produced in mass quantities, special-interest legislation, and a complete lack of awareness of where our food actually comes from. Indeed, in a state of blissful ignorance, the majority of Americans fuel this fire with every meal we eat and food item we purchase. The solution: eat as much organic, unprocessed, locally-grown food as possible. Of course, "possible" is a very relative term, because organic, unprocessed, locally-grown food is neither accessible or affordable to millions of people.

That fact aside, authors Eric Schlosser ("Fast Food Nation") and especially Michael Pollan ("The Omnivore's Dilemma") have been leading this charge for a few years now, but most people are as unlikely to read as they are to grow their own vegetables, so for some viewers of Food, Inc. these may be revolutionary new ideas (i.e., "Hmm, I wonder why every chicken breast I buy is identical in size, shape, etc.?"). Unsatisfied with simply giving Schlosser (a co-producer on the film) and Pollan a forum to speak, Kenner also makes a strong case that agricultural monopolies and food conglomerates such as Tyson, Perdue, and Cargill are fully aware, and thus liable, for a host of the aforementioned problems.

Kenner positions agricultural company Monsanto, for example, as quite the evil empire (I began imagining the "Monsanto crime family" ruling some old world Italian hamlet), accusing them of running small farmers out of business and essentially infiltrating government agencies, including the U.S.D.A., with former Monsanto employees and board members.

It's all very scary and sinister - and backed by a Mark Adler score reminiscent of Philip Glass's haunting work - but honestly it did little to convince me that fighting these companies will amount to much change. Like the tobacco companies, they're well-funded and well-supported by all the right lobbyists and interest groups, and any attack will be met with a slippery rebuttal (how many companies have their own response blog?). Furthermore, as evidenced by the tragic case of Barbara Kowalcyk, in some cases it is literally against the law to make critical claims against these companies, even if they are thought to be complicit in the loss of life (her 2 year-old son died after eating E. coli-contaminated beef).

Much more persuasive, at least to me, was the voice Kenner gave to farmers like Joel Salatin, a philosophizing owner/operator of a Virginia farm with as much charisma and analytic panache as a star politician. I found his astute arguments both brilliant and entertaining, and it was important to hear from someone who is actually doing the work, not just prescribing it. His message of hope and doability may come off to some as naively optimistic, but it nonetheless leaves you feeling a little better on the way out than you did after flammable documentaries such as The Corporation or Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room.

Moving forward then, will Food, Inc. change the national conversation in the same way An Inconvenient Truth did? Both films were produced by (the fantastic) Participant Productions, and a visit to their blog will give you a sense of the grassroots support behind both the film and the local food movement. If there is anything standing in the way of this film exhibiting its full power, I think it's the economy and socioeconomic disparity. If people can afford to see it, it's highly likely that won't be able to afford the lifestyle that goes along with it.

John and Jane Public, if still employed, are living in 2009 with an emaciated retirement plan, a refinanced mortgage, and zero discretionary income. Even if they have access to the co-op groceries and organic farmers in their area (which is unlikely), how will they able to afford and then justify a monthly grocery bill 3-5 times higher than what they pay now at the local big-box supermarket? Despite the Inconvenient Truth-style laundry list of tasks within the closing credits, the affordability of "good" food is the one question I felt was left unanswered here, at least to my satisfaction. Yes, as Pollan or Schlosser (I can't remember which) mentions at the end of the film, we'll know things are right when a bag of chips costs more than a bag of carrots. But I just don't see that happening anytime soon, and financially speaking, the best food remains the most inconvenient food.

But despite a couple of unanswered questions and a propensity for giving the issue a "good vs. evil" storyline that felt a little too black and white for my taste, Food, Inc. is possibly the most thought-provoking documentary so far in 2009. As it claims, "you'll never look at dinner the same way again". But then, you might not look at your grocery bill the same way again, either.

Short Cuts: "Haooo - Hup!" (Drill Captain Command)

A Few Good Men (1992). Directed by Rob Reiner; written by Aaron Sorkin; starring Tom Cruise, Jack Nicholson, Demi Moore, Kevin Pollack, Kevin Bacon, J.T. Walsh, Kiefer Sutherland, Christopher Guest, Cuba Gooding, Jr., and Noah Wyle.

Underrated MOTM: The Firm (1993)

The Underrated Movie of the Month (MOTM) for March is a hit from the good old days of legal thrillers: the early 90's, when characters didn't preach (Michael Clayton), the bad guys weren't based on reality (Michael Clayton) and the stories didn't take themselves so seriously (Michael Clayton). The Firm is a commercially packaged blockbuster that doesn't try to be anything else. It's the anti-Michael Clayton in that respect and it's all the better for it.

Cashing in on the popularity of young novelist John Grisham, The Firm became the first - and, in my opinion, the best - of nine film adaptations of his books, the last being, of course, 2004's Christmas With the Kranks...?!

Opening in the summer of 1993, The Firm was an immediate hit with audiences, many of whom likely saw it multiple times out of devotion to Tom Cruise at the peak of his career. Critics weren't as kind as Joe and Jane Public, and even the few who praised the film complained about its 154-minute running time. In his middling review, Vincent Canby of the New York Times said it was "so slow that by the end you feel as if you've been standing up even if you've been sitting down." Rick Groen of the The Globe and Mail was more blunt: "it's long, it's cluttered, and it's trite."

Maybe it's long, but cluttered and trite? Well, not anymore than Grisham's novels were. That you could tell any of them apart in the first place was an accomplishment to be proud of, but that fact somehow never prevented me from picking up his "new" book every year. So why would the public reaction to the film adaptation be any different? Like all of Grisham's stories, The Firm offered a likable character in the midst of a struggle (Mitch McDeere), nasty villains out for blood (the partners at the firm), a sympathetic antihero (Avery Tolar), and colorful supporting characters (Tammy Hemphill and Eddie Lomax). The late director Sydney Pollack knew that it couldn't be considered "too long" if he was faithful to the novel, since viewers, like voracious readers, would follow the story intently to the end (Owen Gleiberman of EW even admitted, "The problem isn't so much that we can't deduce what's going on as that we aren't given time to enjoy it.").

But therein lies one minor problem: Pollack wasn't very faithful to the book. All of the characters were still in place but their motivations were different and the ending was accordingly changed. Instead of McDeere being a shrewd, morally unpredictable hotshot who retires to the Caribbean, he became in the movie a kind of Boy Scout, returning to Boston to presumably begin a career in pro-bono work for a nonprofit firm. This grated on a few critics ("Very little of what made the written version so enjoyable has been successfully translated to the screen," complained James Berardinelli), but I was fine with it. As with Jurassic Park later that summer, I found myself able to enjoy the entertainment value of both the novel and the book, despite their obvious differences.

Even conceding the issues with the length and the complaints about the modified plot, the one aspect of the movie that cannot be criticized is the acting. This is a top-notch cast firing all cylinders, completely committing to their characters in a movie that they must have known wouldn't receive award consideration. Tom Cruise gives one of his best performances as McDeere as he allows himself to explore a range of emotions apart from his typical pride and tenacity. He churns one of these out every 2-3 years (and he's due now, the last one being Collateral), but this is one of my favorites because it came during a time when he knew could have just as easily taken any action or romantic comedy script.

The supporting cast was terrific as well, notably Gene Hackman and Jeanne Tripplehorn (what happened to her?), but also Ed Harris and Hal Holbrook. Holly Hunter was good enough to earn a Best Supporting Actress nomination for her work as Mitch's confidante Tammy Hemphill (she would later win Best Actress that year for The Piano), and don't forget memorable roles played by David Strathairn, Wilford Brimley, and Gary Busey.

Not to be thought of as an important movie from the 90's or a symbolic indictment of the American legal system, The Firm is good enough as it is: a commercial suspense thriller with great entertainment value and a star-studded cast. I would take that over a self-important (Michael Clayton) message movie (Michael Clayton) with cheap suspense (Michael Clayton) any day.

Taking It Home: Frost/Nixon

Richard Nixon faces his challenger after the heavyweight bout...

I had a troubling thought while watching Ron Howard's Frost/Nixon, the film based on the play based on the infamous interviews between British TV host David Frost and former U.S. President Richard Milhouse Nixon. Though I haven't seen Peter Morgan's play (the original Broadway version of which, like the movie, also starred Michael Sheen and Frank Langella as Frost and Nixon, respectively), the medium of film doesn't appear to add much to the story behind "the trial Nixon never had". Nevertheless, I found myself riveted during the back-and-forth between the desperately ambitious interviewer and the desperately anxious president. Taken on its own, Frost/Nixon is thus a thoroughly engaging look into Nixon's most public attempt at redemption.

Which brings me back to that troubling thought: I realized an active imagination wasn't necessary to picture other U.S. presidents sitting in Nixon's chair, mumbling their veiled apologies like a little boy scolded after pushing his sister into the mud.

It must be a strange experience to be a head of state. The public (and/or the media) strips you of most human characteristics, like feelings and emotions, which of course makes you extremely vulnerable to personal attacks on your feelings and emotions. Some presidents were much better than others at hiding their wounds, but Nixon didn't appear to be one of them with his sweaty upper lip, his scowls disguised as smiles, and his disparaging remarks about his critics (often behind closed doors, which accelerated his downfall and has continued to haunt him over a decade after his death).

There's a temptation, actually, to consider the argument that Nixon's legacy was not defined by his policies but by his personality. After all, he was hardly the only president embroiled in controversy. Unlike our last two presidents, however, he was utterly pathetic at explaining his way out of it. Bill Clinton could charm his way out of a torture chamber if necessary, while George Bush doesn't seem to take anything seriously enough for us to expect him to carry on mature conversations, much less give logical excuses for his mistakes (a particular scene in W. comes to mind).

How would Clinton and Bush have fared against David Frost (or his contemporary version, Ryan Seacrest)? I'm not sure, but it's interesting to think about considering their shameful brotherhood. Yes, Clinton's transgressions were significantly more personal than Bush's bad deeds, but the point is that both left office with some owning up to do (and it should not not be forgotten that like Nixon, Clinton also faced impeachment). So we've had three presidents in a span of 30 years that, depending on who you ask, betrayed the oath of the country's highest office. Isn't it ironic?

Maybe not. Despite our best efforts to make them otherwise, these men have all been fallible humans like you and me. Their mistakes play out on a much bigger stage and their actions are analyzed like so many tabloid stars of the moment. They screw things up royally every now and then, and sometimes people die.

It's reason enough to make you protest, vote, or run for office yourself. You think somebody must be able to do a better job, despite so much evidence to the contrary (name me an honest politician and I'll name you two facing trial). Am I that cynical? No, not really. To the contrary, I'll be excitedly attending the inauguration of our 44th president in less than a month. There is a large serving of hope on my plate, but I've always found it goes well with a warm side of hesitancy, and after Frost/Nixon I have little reason to think otherwise.

What did you take home?

REVIEW: Changeling (C-)

A full disclosure before I address this movie: For the last decade, there has been no actress who's bothered me more than Angelina Jolie. I don't know her and I don't mean to make any personal judgments about her. I think she has acting talent and I commend her efforts (whatever her motive) for bringing awareness to the plight of refugees worldwide.

But that doesn't mean I have to respect her lifestyle and it doesn't mean I have to like her movies. It doesn't mean I have to fawn over her children or her fashion sense, or that I have to ignore the fact that as arguably the most overexposed celebrity in the world, it's virtually impossible for her to disappear into any role. It doesn't mean I have to drop to my knees while she simply alternates between sexy killer (Tomb Raider, Mr. & Mrs. Smith, Beowulf, Kung Fu Panda, Wanted) and tortured hero (Beyond Borders, A Mighty Heart, Changeling). It doesn't mean I have to listen to her pretentiously deliver the wisdom of an old soul as she waxes nostalgic about Hollywood's golden years (she's the oldest 35 year-old I've ever heard; you're not Meryl Streep, honey). And it certainly doesn't mean I have to accept the ridiculous notion that she has "died for my sins". Please.

I say all of this as a defense, because if you know this about me (and enough people do), you're ready to dismiss my criticism for Changeling as criticism for Jolie. But it's not. There is plenty enough wrong with this movie that has nothing to do with her, and it wouldn't be fair to tear down a movie for one performance anyway. Jolie gets a pass for this one, even though the costumed character of her Oscar-baiting performance reminded me more of an emaciated clown than a distraught mother. To be most accurate, this was Madame Tutli-Putli brought to life (let's forget I recently made the same comparison for a different movie). But Jolie was fine in her part, predictably balancing elegance with extreme emotional outbursts. So if wasn't her that I had a problem with, what was it?

For starters, the lack of a compelling story. On the surface, the true life tale of a mother battling with the corrupt L.A.P.D. over the true whereabouts of her kidnapped child sounds fascinating, but digging deeper it ends up being a bit of a bore. Equal parts Zodiac and L.A. Confidential, it lacks both the chilling moments of the former and the suspenseful intrigue of the latter. There's almost no way to form a natural connection with the characters (natural being the operative word, assuming you can ignore the manipulative filmmaking), which makes sitting through it for 141 minutes pretty tiring. There's a noirish feel around the entire production (especially in the visual style and setting), but Changeling is glaringly lacking in two of the most important elements of noir: character and tone.

Who are these people, and why should we care about them? Christine Collins (Jolie) is depicted as a saintly single mom, but we know literally nothing about her aside from the fact that her husband left her and her son, and now she works as a manager at the telephone company. She’s certainly the victim of a great tragedy here, but I guess I needed something else to latch on to. Besides, it seemed more like Angelina Jolie playing Angelina Jolie than anything else. Give me more background on Christine Collins and I’ll be better able to empathize with Christine Collins.

Even more one-dimensional than Collins is Captain J.J. Jones (Jeffrey Donovan from USA’s “Burn Notice”), the tough talking L.A.P.D. cop who writes his own rules, emotionally wavers between mildly annoyed and extremely irritated, and, for no identifiable reason, speaks with an Irish brogue. In the other corner is John Malkovich (Burn After Reading), a historically great actor who recently seems to be phoning in these blaring performances just so he has an opportunity to shout on cue. Add in a stereotypically insane villain, some annoying kids (who apparently don’t age at all during their adolescence), and evil mental hospital nurses who look like they just came off the set of an old horror movie, and you’ve rounded out the overall poor cast of characters. If not for Christine’s boss and Amy Ryan (Gone Baby Gone) showing some flashes of believable emotion, there might not be a real person on screen throughout the movie.

In fact, the cityscapes and period touches feel more realistic than the people speaking, and it would be fair to predict Changeling receiving some Oscar consideration for its art direction (an opportunity for Best Costume was missed by having Jolie wear the same outfit throughout the movie). Beyond that, I would be surprised if the movie made any splashes during award season.

Oh wait, I forgot. The person responsible for this mess is also the person most beloved by the Academy in recent years: Clint Eastwood.

To take nothing away from a legendary career that spans four decades, I wonder if anyone has yet to gain the courage to tell Mr. Eastwood that his recent projects (Mystic River, Million Dollar Baby, Letters from Iwo Jima, all three Best Picture nominees or winners) aren’t quite as good as he’s tried to make us admit. The guy has a gift for manipulation, and I’m talking about his filmmaking, not his business practices. In Changeling, it’s evident in the cheap thriller moments (chicken spooks detective at ranch) and subliminal musical scores (throughout the legal proceedings), as well as unnecessary flashbacks (the ax and the ruler) and exaggerated running time (just because it’s long doesn’t mean it’s epic).

Angelina Jolie saves the world again at a theater near you...

I don’t want to call Changeling a bad movie as much as I want to call it a missed opportunity. On paper, the story really should have made for something more substantive, more moving or at the very least, more relatable to 2008. Kids are still going missing and the L.A.P.D. is still accused of corruption, but Eastwood fails to connect any dots and make this story relevant in the way that (never thought I’d compare these two “directors”) Ben Affleck did last year in Gone Baby Gone. Alright, so that movie took place in the present day – maybe that’s unfair. But at least Gone Baby Gone was mostly entertaining, wasn’t it? The same can’t be said for Changeling. Now excuse me while I inexplicably buy a ticket to see Eastwood’s Gran Torino next month…

Grade:
Writing - 6
Acting - 7
Production - 6
Emotional Impact - 6
Music - 4
Social Significance - 5

Total: 35/50= 70% = C-

REVIEW: Flash of Genius (C+)

I had to do a little background research on Flash of Genius before I saw it, if only to confirm that it was actually a movie about windshield wipers. A cast led by Greg Kinnear (Ghost Town) and Lauren Graham ("Gilmore Girls") was appealing enough, so with a healthy dose of curiosity I found myself in a packed preview screening a couple weeks ago for a movie that, well, was indeed about windshield wipers. Excuse me, intermittent windshield wipers.

Adapted from this 1993 New Yorker article by screenwriter Philip Railsback, Flash of Genius tells the true story of Bob Kearns (who died in 2005), an engineering professor and amateur inventor who invented the intermittent windshield wiper in 1962, only to see the the local automakers in his native Detroit, including Ford and Chrysler, effectively steal his invention and begin permanently featuring the windshield wipers that we all take for granted today.

Maybe take a break here, have a glass of water and let your heart rate get back to baseline. Make sure you're prepared for the excitement coming later in the legal proceedings.

For a movie like Flash of Genius to work it needs to evoke sympathy from the viewer, but unfortunately in this case we feel sorry for the wrong person - Kearn's wife, Phyllis (Graham), who saw her husband devote well over a decade of his life to fighting Ford for the due credit for his invention. Assuming his efforts were in vain (Kinnear has compared Kearns' fight to "taking on Google today"), Phyllis somewhat understandably left him and ended up caring for their six children on her own. You probably know what happens at the end of the story, as it wouldn't make for a very good movie if it didn't end in the usually predictable fashion.

It's not that the life and legacy of Bob Kearns isn't an important one, it's just that Flash of Genius doesn't treat it like one. There's a moment, for example, when Kearns is walking to his car in the pouring rain on a dark night. Backed by an ominous musical score, a menacing Ford Mustang growls at the nearest stoplight. As our pulse quickens, Kearns anxiously squints through the storm at the approaching beast as the scene reaches its dramatic climax: the wipers have a 1.75 second pause between cycles. End scene.

If only someone had worked so painstakingly to make a better movie...

Greg Kinnear's performance deserves a better script here (the only bright spot is a monologue delivered by Alan Alda as Kearns' attorney), and Bob Kearns' life deserves a better movie. Somebody thought they had their own "flash of genius" in deciding to turn John Seabrook's article into a movie, but I'm sorry to say the insipid Flash of Genius is an invention we probably could have done without, somewhat like an "As Seen on TV!" product featured in a late-night infomercial. Sounds about right, actually, and I recommend changing the channel.

Grade:
Writing - 7
Acting - 9
Production - 7
Emotional Impact - 7
Music - 4
Social Significance - 5

Total: 39/50= 78% = C+

REVIEW: Chicago 10 (B)

Background: I've been meaning to see Brett Morgen's first film, 2002's The Kid Stays in the Picture, but despite the miss I've been excited about Chicago 10 for some time. I'm a big fan of historical anniversaries and 1968 was a year in American history without equal. The film, all documentary but part animated recreation, features the mostly recognizable voices of Hank Azaria, Mark Ruffalo, Nick Nolte, Jeffrey Wright, Liev Schreiber, and the late Roy Scheider. The animation is, I believe, in the same rotoscope style we were first dazzled with in Waking Life before it was ruined by those ridiculous "pity me and my outrageous wealth" Charles Schwab commercials. Anyway, Chicago 10 premiered to rave reviews at the 2007 Sundance Film Festival, and there's a possibility that it will be followed up with an oddly cast but sure to be entertaining live action version. Can all of those people really be involved in the same movie?

Synopsis: The first screen tells us the courtroom scenes are adapted from official court transcripts. This is important - it will be hard to believe later on. As Chicago and Mayor Richard Daley prepare for the 1968 Democratic National Convention, anti-war protesters from two separate groups, MOBE (National Mobilization Committee to End the War in Vietnam - yeah, I don't get the acronym either) and the "Yippies" make plans to non-violently demonstrate in Lincoln Park and the surrounding area. Their requests for a permit are denied, but the protesters show up in droves anyway. Conventional wisdom rings true, as what starts out as innocent marching and pranking ends up with tear gas, billy club beatings, and old ladies being shoved into paddy wagons. Led in spirit by the obnoxious and incredibly narcissistic Abbie Hoffman (Azaria), the other seven on trial in 1969 for conspiracy and intent to start a riot were Jerry Rubin (Ruffalo), David Dellinger, Tom Hayden, Rennie Davis, John Froines, Lee Weiner, and Bobby Seale (Wright). The film cuts back and forth between the trial animations and archival footage from the protests, much of which is pretty incredible to see. The riot scenes are tense and the trial scenes are showy. All the while, The Eight are held in high esteem by Morgen, while Judge Julius Hoffman (Scheider) is portrayed as a grumpy old jerk. Certainly the defendants weren't totally innocent, but their circus of a trial was hardly just. Even the defense lawyers (William Kunstler and Leonard Weinglass, thus making 10) served multiple year prison sentences for their "contemptuous" behavior in the courtroom. By the abrupt conclusion we're supposed to be left in a fit of rage, but I had more questions than I had answers.

I Loved:
+ The rare archival footage, though you could never see what started each violent outburst. Everyone's just standing around anxiously and then BOOM - beatings and running for lives.

I Liked:
+ The animation, for the most part. What can I say, I'm a sucker for rotoscope, and even the traditional animation was interesting to look at here.

I Disliked:
- The use of Eminem's Bush-bashing song "Mosh." What, were there not enough war protest songs from the 60's to use here? Totally out of context, but in a funny spot right after Allen Ginsberg's "ommm" chants.
- Nick Nolte's gutteral, growling voice - the guy sounds like an animal. Literally, like a disgruntled dog or a dying alligator or something. Casting him here was unnecessarily distracting.
- That the driving rock music was an almost constant presence, even in the courtroom. Trust me, I can pay attention during a trial scene without needing to be "entertained." For that matter, was the animation even necessary? Couldn't it have simply been a live action reenactment with the same actors?

I Hated:
- Roy Scheider's voice, channeling Hans Moleman from "The Simpsons."

Grade:
Writing - N/A
Acting - N/A
Production - 8
Emotional Impact - 8
Music - 4
Significance - 5

Total: 25/30= 83% = B

Last Word: I'm easily annoyed by people. People like Abbie Hoffman. Not because of how they act, but because of what gets lost when they act the way he did. What went missing here was the central message of their "protest." By the final march, their speeches aren't about the war at all, they're about "us" and "the pigs." This kind of inflammatory language was the style in the 60's to be sure, but that doesn't make it any less immature and ineffective. In this case, "the whole world" was watching, alright - watching people act like idiots for no good reason. If I'm sounding like Bill O'Reilly, I don't mean to. It's just that my hackles are raised whenever people place themselves in front of the message, and for all their good intentions (and constitutional rights), the protesters at the convention didn't accomplish as much as they could have with a more reasonable approach. Although I haven't mentioned him yet, what I just said could apply to Brett Morgen here as well, who's essentially made a cartoon out of cartoonish characters. I applaud his ambition to make an important story relevant 40 years later, but he doesn't fare much better than the protesters in making a convincing argument for anything. He's made a visual and auditory feast, but I'm hungry for some more substantive information in my documentaries, maybe flavored with some structure and just a dash of objectivity. It's incredible to say so about a documentary, but despite all the flashy panache of Chicago 10, I think the live action version (if it happens) may end up being the more important film.

REVIEW: Michael Clayton (C)

Background: Tony Gilroy, screenwriter for the Bourne trilogy and a sampling of other random 90's movies, shopped his draft of Michael Clayton around Hollywood for several years. Because he insisted on directing it himself, which he has no experience doing, no one would bite. Finally, it was picked up by Castle Rock and Warner Bros., probably because of the success of the Bourne movies. Nevermind that they are completely different genres. George Clooney stars as the title character, supported by Tom Wilkinson (In the Bedroom), Tilda Swinton (The Beach, The Deep End), and acclaimed director, producer, and occasional actor Sydney Pollack.

Synopsis: We are introduced in the opening credits to Arthur Evans (Wilkinson), senior counsel for the law firm representing U North, a major agricultural corporation accused of using toxic pesticides. Evans, a manic depressive, delivers a Jerry Maguire-esque speech about an epiphany he has had in learning the truth, and we see a bunch of lawyers in crisis mode as the story is about to break. At the same time, the firm's "fixer" Michael Clayton (Clooney) is playing underground poker and U North spokeswoman Karen Crowder (Swinton) is practicing sound bites for an interview. We're then inexplicably taken back a few days in time to learn more about each character. Clayton's work is thankless and he is worn down from dealing with the firm's problems. He has family issues and a failed restaurant business. He genuinely cares about his colleague Evans, but he is concerned about what the fallout will be from Evans' mental breakdown. Eventually the story picks up as U North decides to take some predictably extreme measures to keep the story under wraps, and Clayton decides to do the "right thing" for once.

I Loved:
+ Nothing.

I Liked:
+ The kitchen scene where Michael Clayton deals with the spastic executive who has just committed a hit-and-run.

I Disliked:
- The hired hoodlums - clichéd unmarked van, clichéd black skullcaps, clichéd nondescript face, etc.
- The weak dialogue - specifically Michael Clayton's desperate voice message for Arthur, and Michael Clayton's awkward speech to his son in the car.
- The unnecessary lesson on the woes of trying to own a restaurant in New York City.

I Hated:
- The painfully predictable, obnoxiously obvious ending - not the cheap ending they show at the beginning for no reason whatsoever, but the pathetic real ending outside the ballroom.
- The disgusting speech we have to hear from Arthur Evans not once, but twice - it just sounded gross to me, and it was probably a lot better in Tony Gilroy's mind that it came to be on film.

Grade:
Writing - 6
Acting - 9
Production - 9
Emotional Impact - 6
Music - 5
Significance - 3

Total: 38/50= 76% = C

Last Word: I guess I just expected more from Michael Clayton. I thought there would be more suspense and characters I would actually care about. Maybe even an interesting take home message. Instead I see the end of the movie in the first five minutes and I find myself annoyed with almost everyone on the screen, plus all can I think is that I saw the same plot in A Civil Action. The whole thing was like a bad episode of "Law & Order," which I have actually never seen but imagine is like this. By the way, does any actor wear a white shirt and black jacket for as many characters as George Clooney? "No, I've got wardrobe, thanks, just give me some witty lines so I can look smarter than all of the other characters." OK, so I wasn't as annoyed with Clooney as I thought I would be - he does fine. The real problems with Michael Clayton are in the story. They're minor details, but they add up to a mess. For example, stop with the time shifting trend in Hollywood. It would have been a lot more shocking to have zero knowledge of the car bomb until it goes off at the end when he's petting the horses. Just BOOM! Out of nowhere. Instead, we're waiting for it the whole time. No reason to show that at the beginning, or the overdrawn GPS confusion with the bad guys. And why did he have to throw his wallet and watch into the car? Also, get the son and the restaurant business out of the story entirely (and dramatically reduce the teenage girl's role), and don't use a really tired plot (evil corporation conceals dangerous product) and even more cliched ending. I think Tony Gilroy should avoid writing legal thrillers and stick with action, where at least there's an excuse for bad writing.