Do Communists Have Better Sex?

André Meier's “Do Communists Have Better Sex?” playfully examines the cold war sexual dynamics of Eastern and Western Germany. The film consists of interviews with prominent intellectuals, newscasts, theoretical observations regarding the ideological motivations promoting different sexual attitudes within the two countries, propaganda, and contrasting Christian and Trade Union viewpoints concerning birth control (with comedic cartoons interspersed throughout). The contrasts are strikingly manufactured and Meier's film doesn’t try to solve anything. Instead, it places different approaches within a light-hearted yet provocative frame that gives both sides the chance to display their motivations. In the East, there isn't as much to buy, but there's all kinds of room for the development of one's imagination.

The screening I viewed at Cinema du Parc was followed by two American educational films. In the first, an Italian who speaks English with an accent awaits the birth of his child. However, his child is born dead and his purebred American doctor (who speaks perfect English) informs him that the cause of death was syphilis (purebred Americans never get syphilis!). Fortunately for this noble savage, a cure for syphilis exists, enabling him and his wife to have more children in the future. The end of the film vilifies brothels and who is shown operating these brothels but an African American woman? Racist ethnocentric propaganda at its best cunningly indoctrinating the land of the free. No mention is made of the costs associated with the required medical treatment. Fortunately, this humble Italian-American baker was likely free to receive an additional mortgage.

The second video chronicles the sexual development of a caucasian American teenage girl. She is interested in sex but confused. Her father has no advice and quietly reads the paper while his wife cooks dinner and takes care of the family. After a disastrous encounter with a nogoodnik who is only interested in one thing, she falls for a beautiful caucasian American boy. The quarterback of their high school football team no doubt! Afterwards, their relationship flourishes because they decide to have their sexual union sanitized by the bonds of marriage, legitimizing the purity of their future. Note that they come from the same social class, revel in their popularity (in moderation), and only have jealousy confronting their happiness. No mention is made of material sexual realities because everything is perfect, and only people who have something wrong with them could possibly not know how to naturally engage in healthy sexual activity. Propagandistic drivel, straight from the puritanical pulpit, idealistically scoring another touchdown for one-dimensional conservative points of view. Came close to throwing up my popcorn. With laughter!

Capitalism: A Love Story

Michael Moore, filmmaker, social activist, practical idealist, prominent voice. For twenty years he's been crafting socially conscious films which subvert the wealthy American elite in a playful, satirical fashion, and Capitalism: A Love Story once again displays his characteristic dynamic wit. Within, he uses conservative tropes to convey his liberal message to a wider audience. He interviews progressive Catholic thinkers to reestablish the left wing religious dimension (not to say that said dimension is exclusively Catholic, Moore just happens to have been raised Catholic so he interviews Catholic priests primarily). He focuses on his home town of Flint Michigan and includes a scene shot with his dad. He seeks unionized social justice with the degree of confident bravado you'd expect from a small town Western sheriff (masked by a subdued delivery). And he clearly indicates who the American villains are, to the best of his abilities, thereby utilizing the Republican political form and revitalizing it with ethical Democratic content (while simultaneously highlighting Democratic disappointments). He uncovers Citigroup documents which indicate that 1% of the population has more wealth than 95% of the American people combined; he points out that the majority of Americans have no hope of becoming one of the lucky few and could benefit from forming labour unions; he presents codetermination worker cooperatives (California's Alvarado Street Bakery and Wisconsin's Isthmus Engineering) which actually use democratic ideals to structure their business "hierarchies" as well as Vermont's socially democratic Senator Bernie Sanders; he includes footage of how Franklin D. Roosevelt supported the Flint Sit-Down Strike (1936) by sending in the military to protect striking workers; and he suggests that some German businesses have adopted social democratic practices which allow workers to elect members of their company's board of directors. He points out a lot of things and it's a film so the level of analysis is often terse and sentimental, quickly jumping from one scene to the next, presenting a wide variety of possibilities without offering a sincere degree of reflection. And it's also a film inasmuch as it's symphonically built with crescendoes and diminuendos, good guys and bad guys, ambiguity, and a compelling climax. Moore mentions that the one thing which frightens the plutocrats the most is that every American citizen has a vote and can theoretically elect individuals who threaten their capitalistic monopoly with progressive universal legislation. In presenting Barak Obama, Moore cleverly suggests that perhaps he is the person America's been waiting for while carefully enumerating his corporate sponsors.

Ichi

Fumihiko Sori's Ichi presents a resilient blind beautiful sword fighter (Haruka Ayase as Ichi) travelling the Japanese countryside alone in search of the sightless man who helped cultivate her skill, playing the shamisen to make ends meet. Unexpectedly along for the ride is Toma Fujihira (Takao Ôsawa), a shunned samurai warrior who has been unable to draw his sword ever since its blade accidentally took his mother's sight. The pair winds up in a small inn town where the peaceful innkeeping Shirakawa group have had enough of the ruthless, disfigured Banki (Shido Nakamura) and his gang. As they become caught up in the conflict, will Ichi help Fujihira draw his blade?, and will Fujihira melt Ichi's chilly disposition so that she can escape her volatile past?

The film's entertaining enough, with strictly drawn boundaries regarding good and evil, effective doubling, and generally strong performances (especially from Yôsuke Kubozuka as Toraji Shirakawa) (although Bandi's trademark laugh becomes tiresome). A wide variety of nefarious no-good-nicks suffer the wrath of Ichi's calm and delicate back hand slash, and Fujihira provides alarming and awkward comic relief until he comes to terms with his solidified strength. The final sword fight is a bit of a let down, short and to the point rather than extended and intricately choreographed. This is a shame insofar as three of the four main characters suffer from a disability and had the final showdown been elaborately executed, it would have formally accentuated the ways in which said disabilities had been overcome (although by leaving it short and sweet it reflects the theme that disabilities are serious liabilities in Japan, and therefore extremely difficult to overcome). In addition, Ichi seems to be championing feminist forms of political action (Ichi's cultural shackles represented by her blindness) but in the end it's the men who take care of the serious business. Nevertheless, with a fast-paced plot filled with consistent and multidimensional action, Ichi's scope is adventurous and dynamic if not bold and progressive. Part comedy, part romance, while still developing a fluctuating sense of evolving responsibility, Ichi slices and dices its way into the samurai genre, curiously examining gender and power.

Law Abiding Citizen

Taking the law into your own hands, frustrated by the deals and dilemmas necessitated by the nature of the legal system: it's pay back time. In F. Gary Gray's Law Abiding Citizen, Clyde Shelton (Gerard Butler) refuses to accept the compromise which frees one of his wife (Brooke Mills) and daughter's (Ksenia Hulayev) killers (Christian Stolte as Clarence Darby) after only 5 years and strikes back with a full on blitzkrieg. His object of vengeance is principally lawyer Nick Rice (Jamie Foxx) but his methods seek to "incarcerate" anyone associated with the original trial. His goal: teach Rice that you don't make deals with murderers. His methodology: take out anyone and everyone responsible. As a work of fiction, Law Abiding Citizen works well insofar as the ending champions an either/or legal system where the ambiguous dimension structuring day to day judicial decision making is severely criticized (and the either/or mentality is fictionalized). However, if it is stating that this either/or mentality should be adopted, then, from a more practical point of view, the ending becomes problematic. One way out of this predicament is to firmly interpret the ending as a situation where Shelton represents the subjective rogue, Rice, the objective standard. Rice can apply his objective standards generally aside from situations where he encounters the subjective rogue, situations wherein there is no compromise due to the designs of the rogue's ambitions. But if this dimension is being fictionalized then Gray supports a system where Rice can only apply his objective standards to situations where there is no compromise, thereby making the exception the universal and leading us back to the high and low imbroglio. Whether or not Shelton wanted Rice to kill him in the end is ambivalent as well: did Rice truly outsmart Shelton or was Shelton expecting Rice to outsmart him? Was he simply prepared for both options? Does this layer of ambivalence suggest that Gray is fictionalizing the ambiguous dimension of legal proceedings in order to applaud an objective either/or system which is subtly yet directly presented? Either it's an ambiguous ending or it's not, or perhaps the ending is both ambiguous and polar. You decide.

Joyeux Noël

The setting's World War I. Scottish and French troops are fighting the Germans. Heartbreak, lesions, and loss on both sides as they dig in and fight it out attrition style. But Christmas arrives and three commanders miraculously come together and order a ceasefire to give their troops time to celebrate. This unsettles their superior officers and soon enough there's hell to pay, respect for humanity be damned. What Christian Carion's Joyeux Noël points out is that superior officers who are theoretically responsible for representing and maintaining acceptable models of behaviour often take none to kindly to being outshone by their subordinates, especially when such actions resolutely salute the ideals for which each respective officer stands. A gregarious film showcasing hearty camaraderie and its humanistic complement, Joyeux Noël is a must for the annual holiday circuit inasmuch as it thoroughly embodies the spirit of the season.

Up

It's never to late to follow your dreams and you can almost accomplish anything. This message curiously permeates Pete Doctor and Bob Peterson's Up (a Disney/Pixar production) although it is examined from competing patriarchal conceptions of the aged caucasian male. The hero: Carl Fredricksen (voiced by Ed Asner and Jeremy Leary) and his wife Ellie (Elie Doctor) have dreamed of following Charles Muntz's footsteps and travelling to South America's Paradise Falls since they met. But during their marriage they could never find the funds or the time to do so. After Ellie dies and Carl unfortunately assaults a construction worker, he decides it's time to live their dream and turns their house into a flying machine propelled by thousands of balloons. Accidentally along for the ride is young boy scout Russell (Jordan Nagai) who is working on his helping the elderly badge. The villain: Charles Muntz (Christopher Plummer) has been living in Paradise Falls for decades trying to capture a rare bird after having been accused of fabricating its existence by the scientific community. While unable to trap the bird, he has created a collar which allows dogs to speak and attached one to each of the "hounds" in his pack. After Carl and Russell reach the area surrounding Paradise Falls, the bird in question takes a liking to Russell's candy bar and begins following them to Mr. Fredricksen's chagrin. Only after Russell helps Carl to discover that Muntz will likely kill the bird after capture does he begin to snap out of his self-possessed fantasy and start fighting back against his childhood hero.

On the one hand we have the old-school conception of the traditional white patriarch, Charles Muntz, for whom nature is a resource to be sequestered and conquered. Obviously possessing an extremely gifted intellect, he cannot overcome the slander attached to his good name and rather than finding other ways to positively contribute to society lives out his days in the wilderness adhesively clutching the past. In the beginning, Carl too wishes to hold on to the past and live out the rest of his life in what he and his wife always dreamed would be paradise. However, young Russell's influence inspires him to stand up and take a side (the child being the teacher of the man) and he embraces the revolutionary environmentalist point of view, disregards his possessions, and decides that it's time the traditional patriarchal male destabilizes his historical stereotype by overtly challenging the forces of imperialism. Thus, the child helps the old man to recognize the horrific dimension of his fantasy and he is then able to develop a confident voice of his own which he uses to reinvigorate his reality. It's no coincidence that the incomprehensible chocolate loving bird is female and that Carl would have never embarked on his journey had he not callously assaulted a worker.

The Hurt Locker

The Hurt Locker's script (written by Mark Boal) skillfully brings the Iraq war to life. Somehow, it manages to calmly present snapshots of 39 days of a bomb squad's Iraq rotation. We aren't bombarded with left-wing or right-wing propaganda regarding whether or not the war is justified. Instead, we simply observe a group of soldiers as they go about their business of warring, doing their best to pacify the country. In fact, in one scene two soldiers (Jeremy Renner as SSG William James and Anthony Mackie as Sgt. JT Sanborn) discuss why they're fighting and neither of them can come up with an answer. And no direct answers are provided, although at least two collaborating viewpoints are established, one suggesting that war is a drug and participants are addicted, another, that soldiers defuse bombs to save children. Altruism or expediency?, probably a combination of both considering how psychologically complicated things must become after you've been fighting for awhile. Answers: there are no answers but there is a war and there are people fighting it. Director Kathryn Bigelow (Point Break) objectively displays this fact and gives us enough credit to come to personnel conclusions of our own.

The Blind Side

The Blind Side is Republican and therefore problematic. John Lee Hancock's film concerns an extremely rich caucasian Republican family who adopts a traumatized African American youth. Thus, it immediately sets itself up as another narrative where condescending white people are the only saviours of down and out black people who would have amounted to nothing had they been left to the resources of their own community. This dimension functions throughout and cannot be ignored. But at the same time, it is the true story of a remarkably generous big-C Christian family who adopted a troubled youth in order to give them a chance at a better life. The Tuohy's are incredibly hospitable, not condescending, and bend over backwards to accommodate Michael Oher (Quinton Aaron). His past is full of tragedy, his demeanour excessively aloof, and his grades are lacking credibility. But he's really good at football (yeah, I know) and if given the right opportunity might just make the big time.

It's in the bible people!

But seriously, the film's self-reflexive nature is commendable and I truly enjoyed the ways in which John Lee Hancock and Michael Lewis's script poked fun at Republican stereotypes. To make the film acceptable to hard-line Republicans, a woman is given the most prominent role: Leigh Anne Tuohy (Sandra Bullock). This is the same device used by progressive thinkers to break down racial barriers on shows like Star Trek: The Original Series, where it might be okay for a caucasian man to kiss an African American woman, but it's not okay for a black man to kiss a white woman. Bullock gives the performance of a life time and truly shines in humanitarian splendour. Three stand out scenarios: after hiring a Democrat to tutor Michael (Kathy Bates), Sean Tuohy (Tim McGraw) states something like: "who'd have thought we'd have a black son before meeting a Democrat." I found this to be hilarious. It was intelligently situated, perfectly timed, and culturally disruptive, insofar as it points out that Christian Republicans who demonize Democrats without ever having met one (living their lives in isolated communities) (if such persons exist) are perhaps not living up to their open-minded Christian ideals. The Tuohy's assume Michael wants to play football at a university due to his success and support him full-heartedly. But when it occurs to them that perhaps he never wanted to play football period, they apologize and state that they will support him if he decides to pursue another career. Thirdly, the intertextual domain falls apart when Leigh Anne overtly explains the ways in which Munro Leaf's The Story of Ferdinand relates explicitly to Michael. But at the same time, the traumatic moment from Michael's past which continually resurfaces is not elucidated explicitly, an interesting twist of events where the somewhat insignificant detail is pronounced, while the more relevant motif is subdued, Hancock's subtle formal complement to his film's progressive dimension (by reversing the order of things formally, he complements his film's deconstruction of Republican normalities on a subconscious level).

It's difficult to effectively work within stereotyped traditional domains where there is a right and wrong and find ways to progressively and cross-culturally point out potential ideological shortcomings that seem as if they've been generated from within that ideology itself. This is what John Lee Hancock's The Blind Side has done, playfully pointing out the Republican blind side if you will, and for that reason, I found it to be an exceptional film.

An Education

Difficult, being a young romantically inexperienced teenaged student studying hard to be accepted by Oxford while dealing with the daily complications of social and familial life. In Lone Scherfig's An Education, we meet such a person named Jenny (Carey Mulligan), an ambitious confused high-spirited girl attending an exclusively female school in London during the 1960s. Things proceed as per usual until the free-spirited thrity-something handsome heartthrob David (Peter Sargaard) enters her life by offering her a ride. The two hit it off and both Jenny and her parents are overwhelmed by David's manners, culture, gifts, and charm. Musical performances, trips to the country, a weekend in Paris, dinner and dancing: an enticing and exciting courtship ensues. But things aren't as austere as they originally seem to be, and the bright and promising future David offers may be nothing more than dust in the wind.

An Education intelligently examines what can be thought of as future prospects from multiple angles. Each adult represents a different potential life path for Jenny and she's bewildered by the options. Should she spend her life studying dry literature in dusty educational institutions just so she can wind up teaching dry literature in dusty educational institutions? If she marries rich will her future be secure as her father (Alfred Molina) hopes? Should she emulate her mother (Cara Seymour) and wind up reserved and complacent after years of predictable middle-class married life? Or follow Helen's (Rosamund Pike) fashionably fast-paced footsteps, sacrificing knowledge for glamour in an epicurean salute to the avant-garde?

The point is, it's difficult to be young, and boring to be proper, and when exhilarating opportunities arise it's easy to let them take control. And youth and financial insecurity are sincere motivators as Jenny's father regrettably points out. If you make the "wrong" decision and follow a problematic path, you will certainly face consequences for your actions. But An Education demonstrates that such consequences are by no means absolute which is refreshing to see since so many films rely on melodramatic retributive constructs to "dramatically" tie things together.

Lorne Scherfig's Wilbur Wants to Kill Himself is a really cool film too.

Up in the Air

Flying high, city to city, your life in a suitcase, firing people for a living, aware of every hotel/car rental/flight deal in the USA, trying to save up 10 million air miles, lovin' it. That just about sums up Ryan Bingham's (George Clooney) life in Jason Reitman's new film Up in the Air, a romantic comedy that probes the depths of the resolute "can't be tied down" bachelor. Bingham works for a company that flies its workhorses around the country 24/7 firing people for firms who don't have the gusto to do it themselves. But technological complications arise in the form of a lively young graduate (Anna Kendrick as Natalie Keener) whose videoconferencing ambitions threaten Bingham's comfortable lifestyle. But before taking her revolutionary ideas to heart, manager Craig Gregory (Jason Bateman) decides she needs to learn the ropes herself and sends her "on the road" with the veteran Bingham. During their trip, experience meets education in an age-old rivalry designed to test the limits of both their idealistic life plans. Throw Bingham's love interest Alex Goran (Vera Farmiga) into the mix, along with a troublesome wedding, and you have a multi-layered quizzical examination of the platonic nature of values, thoroughly saturated with longstanding larks.

A thoughtful, entertaining, somewhat unpredictable story, Up in the Air demonstrates how things work out when they don't work out while deconstructing the concept of love. Whether or not it considers the subjective life to be ideal is up for debate insofar as its heartbroken protagonist sustains his uncommitted lifestyle by suavely spreading misery as the crow flies.

Precious: Based on the Novel "Push" by Sapphire

Lee Daniel's Precious lucidly deals with difficult subject matter in a heartbreakingly blatant fashion. Claireece "Precious" Jones (Gabourey Sidibe) is illiterate, pregnant with her second child, overweight, and constantly abused by her vicious mother (Mo'Nique). Whenever she encounters another round of caustic verbalizations she instantly retreats into a fantasy world where she's where it's at and everything's perfect. Things are seriously hard up until she receives the chance to study at an alternative school where she meets a colourful cast of disenfranchised characters. After finally having met some people who treat her with respect, she begins to bounce back and develops a colourful personality of her own. Definitely not the easiest film to watch, Precious provides its audience with a bold taste of what it's like to suffer. While overtly displaying some of the most gruesome representatives of humanity, it also champions hope and focuses intently upon how one can escape an outrageously abusive situation, thereby saluting democratic social safety networks and the strong individuals responsible for making them work.

Revanche

Problems. Solutions. What happens when simple plans go terribly wrong or your perfect life lacks one component culturally representative of stability? Götz Spielmann's Revanche tackles tough problems and even tougher solutions in a concretely realistic fashion, developing dynamically hard-boiled characters in a complicated, nocturnal narrative. Ex-con Alex (Johannes Krisch) and his prostitute girlfriend Tamara (Irina Potapenko) plan to rob a bank and escape to the South while husband and wife Robert (Andreas Lust) and Susanne (Ursula Strauss) struggle to have their first child. One poorly aimed bullet ruins one potential future while possibly consummating another; Robert does his best to cope while Alex works through his frustration. Revenge is in the works, but rather than showcasing its bloodthirsty desire, Spielmann lethargically allows it to steep, thereby using his characters to demonstrate a broad range of its associated affects. Functioning as a steadfast foil is Alex's grandfather Hausner (Johannes Thanheiser), constituted like a rock, embedded, providing age-old bits of timeless empirical wisdom to anyone fortunate enough to listen. Revanche certainly isn't pretty, and it doesn't deal with cookie-cutter subject matter as it evocatively unravels its panorama, definitive and lucid, decadent and deadly. Bizarre in its motivations and cryptic in its revelations, Revanche oddly functions as a formulaic compromise, conceptualizing high and low.

The Invention of Lying

Matthew Robinson and Ricky Gervais's The Invention of Lying introduces a simplistic plot that collapses beneath the weight of its subject matter. After having lost his job, apartment, and chance with a beautiful woman (Jennifer Garner), Mark Bellison (Ricky Gervais), who inhabits a world where no one lies, discovers that if he engages in the act of lying he can do whatever he wants. No one clues into the fact that he's using his imagination to conjure fantastic stories and everyone supply acquiesces to his mischievous, modestly mendacious designs. But he has a conscience and won't lie in order to seduce his love interest, even though she consistently mentions that he isn't an adequate genetic match due to his gut and pug nose. That's about it. Apart from Gervais's characteristic dry wit, a number of entertaining cameos, and the odd hilarious bit, the film falls apart after Bellison learns to lie and would have been much funnier if it had taken place solely in the world where everyone tells the truth. Some basic plot developments are suspect as well, for instance, after having spent all of his money on rent, Bellison has money to spend at a casino, and Bellison's nemesis Brad Kessler (Rob Lowe) questions his statements even though he's supposed to believe everything everyone says. It's like Gervais's attempt to move away from sordid material into a more family friendly domain shatters his usually impeccable humour and results in a cutesy-wutsey romp, occasionally funny, but generally dismissible. Not a word of a lie.

A Serious Man

The Coen Brothers's A Serious Man examines the impact of a series of disruptive events upon the life of Larry Gopnik (Michael Stuhlbarg). Things are going well for Larry near the film's beginning insofar as his status-quo routine is firmly established and he is being considered for tenure at the educational institution where he works. Things could certainly be better: he has trouble establishing a dialogue with his children, his gun loving neighbour (Peter Breitmayer) doesn't recognize where his lawn ends and Larry's begins, and his down-on-his-luck brother (Uncle Arthur played by Richard Kind) lives with his family and can't seem to get his life together. But these minor problems are dealt with stoically albeit non-confrontationally by the introverted Larry who still remains confident in his work and cohesive in his appearances. Then, suddenly, his wife (Sarah Lennick) announces she's leaving him, a hopeless student (David Kang) places him in a ludicrously awkward position, his brother is arrested, the tenure committee begins to receive disparaging letters, he's forced to endure humiliating conversations with his wife and her new love interest (Fred Melamed), he gets in a car accident, discovers he owes Columbia Records a large sum of money, and so on and so on, while seeking help from confusing rabbis (Simon Helberg, George Wyner), making sure his son (Aaron Wolff) is ready for his Bat Mitzvah, living out of a matchbox hotel (with his brother), . . . ; in short, things amusingly spiral out of control as Larry tries to keep from discombobulating. It's definitely a Coen Brothers film inasmuch as they effectively introduce over a dozen dynamic characters and awkward situations who/which are tightly tied together in a coherent chaotic whole, a whole which situates old world legends in a post-modern predicament while simultaneously disseminating that very same predicament as an old world legend. Some of the characters could have used some more screen time (Uncle Arthur for instance), the ending could have had a little more closure (the Coen Brothers taking a roguish shot at their audience), the Dybbuk could have been reintroduced a bit more directly (although I suppose it's amorphous presence is meant to stimulate debate [a debate about which they are likely chuckling]), and Larry could have occasionally expressed himself more elaborately (although I suppose that's the point of the ending). But, nevertheless, A Serious Man playfully and mischievously creates a multi-dimensional functionally dysfunctional world, wherein audience and characters alike are treated to a cornucopia of possibilities and a plethora of problematic realities.

District 9

What happens when a spaceship full of aliens possessing highly advanced military technology parks itself over a major city and waits for first contact? In Neill Blomkamp's District 9, those aliens are transferred from their ship to a segregated section of town, fenced off from the strictly human, and left to struggle while the military tries to find a way to harness their secrets. Seen as an economic burden, a foreign intrusion, and a quizzical curiosity, these aliens make ends meet with the limited resources left at their disposal, scraping by a meagre living while holding on to their coveted technologies. Enter Wikus van de Merwe (Sharlto Copley), a hapless, enthusiastic, South African citizen, who is accidentally sprayed by a clandestine fuel while serving a couple of aliens their eviction notice. This fuel transforms his body into a human/alien hybrid, extremely sick yet capable of firing extraterrestrial weaponry. None to happy regarding his life threatening transformations, Wikus escapes the authorities and flees to the only place he can hide, the alien's pseudo-encampment. There he reencounters the fuel's creator and the two launch a preposterously poignant plan to save both their lives.

District 9 examines racism, technological progress, media manipulation, militaristic modifications, and misfortunate messianic mollifications in a fictionally scientific fashion. The film's intellectually deep but solidly entertaining, bridging the gap between esoteric modes of artistic expression and smash-em up mass marketed 'action' flicks. Bit over-the-top, vicious, and sensationally subtle, District 9 still focuses on contemporary racio-cultural issues, productively pointing out that these problems persist. It's a shame that these narratives often boil down to who has the bigger gun, but, unfortunately, this is a cultural code that has been heuristically hard-wired, a potential fact, which, if I'm not mistaken, Blomkamp is ironically deconstructing (banging his head against the wall) by using de Merwe as his hero.

The Maiden Heist

Wasn't too impressed with Peter Hewitt's The Maiden Heist. I rented it because I couldn't resist seeing a film starring Christopher Walken, Morgan Freeman, and William H. Macy, and while they played their quirky typecast characters with the same seductive skills that have sustained their prolific careers, their acting couldn't overcome the lacklustre script as the film flounders during its second act. What's missing is a serious problem. Each of the aforementioned stars works as a museum security guard who has fetishized a particular work of art. Upon learning that their favourite pieces are to be transferred to an exhibit in Denmark, they concoct a plan to steal them. But while heisting, their plan goes off without a sensational hitch, leaving their audience slightly bored by the lack of substantial shock. The introduction's strong enough with a startling opening scene which showcases Walken's traditional mania, but as the plot slowly unravels, and the characters develop a stronger relationship with their favourite work of art than they do with each other, nothing unforeseen is introduced to ridiculously yet rationally complicate things, which results in a mediocre finish.

Angels and Demons and The Dark Knight

Rented Angels and Demons and The Dark Knight the other weekend and was surprised by the similarities between their endings. Both films showcase idyllic characters who have fallen from grace (one by his own free will, the other pushed) in their pursuit of the greater good. And at the end of both films, the powers that be use their influence to ensure that both characters are venerated, in order to avoid disrupting their elevated cultural image. Thus, the public within both films avoids falling into a cynical abyss by not having their heroes seriously defamed, while their audience falls into a cynical abyss after having been provided with a direct representation of historical manipulation, a direct representation which calls into question the saintly status of their inveterate icons. Of course they're both simply films so their demonic destabilization of the established order of things can be dismissed angelically as pure fiction. But the interactions between these two narrative levels forge an interesting balance, subtly illuminating the fictional aspects of these non-fictional dark knights.

The Hangover

Don't really see what all the hype's about surrounding Todd Phillips's The Hangover. Sure, some scenes are seriously hilarious, and it's fun to watch a group of rowdy dudes hit some cataclysmic highs and lows while partying it up in Vegas. But a lot of the humour is of the "taser to the groin"/"beaten down with a crowbar"/"I'm a lunatic psycho" variety and after a while all the juvenile violence wears a little thin. The lunatic psycho (Zach Galifianakis) has a lot of offbeat points to make that infuse the film with a particularly dark functionally awkward comic sensibility, but it's overt psycho awkward without the mediated ridiculousness that made famous psychos like Serial Mom and many, many Christopher Walken characters so appealing. The over-the-top shenanigans try and establish a dimension of ridiculous awkwardness but the constant jocktacular beatings and bizarre attempts to establish a realist counterpoint destabilize its productivity. It has its moments, like Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas accidentally runs into Animal House while recycling a bad "and then I #$%# her" joke, but those moments are few and far between, and the high-powered "yeah, we're full of testosterone" backbone doesn't help The Hangover convalesce.

World's Greatest Dad

Few films slowly and subtly build their dark comedic landscapes as effectively as Bobcat Goldthwait's World's Greatest Dad, and the finished product is an hilarious mixture of aerobic angst and ideological agony. The facts: single father Lance Clayton (Robin Williams) works as a high school poetry teacher whose elective class is none to popular. He's been trying to sell a book for most of his adult life with no success and his anti-social son Kyle (Daryl Sabara) disdainfully dismisses his heartfelt attempts to establish a loving relationship. Well, one day Kyle accidentally chokes himself to death and after discovering the body, Lance can't let the police find him in such a disheveled state. So he writes a suicide note and moves him to the closet, making it look like Kyle traditionally took his own life. But unfortunately for Lance, the suicide note is discovered online and quickly disseminated to the majority of his high school's student body. Much to his surprise, Kyle becomes something of a legend as the students cast him as a tragic misunderstood hero, a misguided object of idolatry and veneration. The only thing Lance can do is go along, and soon his poetry class is full of admirers and he's invited to Dr. Dana's (Deborah Horne) television show to plug his conjured version of Kyle's diary. But all good things must come to an end, and just as the high school library is being renamed in Kyle's honour, with a special appearance by loveable singer-songwriter Bruce Hornsby, the truth, and Lance's shot at the big time (including his first book deal), comes crashing down. Wherein lies the ideological agony of the film insofar as realistically speaking Lance's co-workers etc. are upset because he lied to them, but, ideologically speaking, they're even more upset that he told the truth, thereby ruining the cult of Kyle by delegitimizing their exhaulted hero. Things return to normal for good 'ole Lance and he looks like his life has improved remarkably in the aftermath, Goldthwait's succinct salute to Lance's courageous individualism. By showing us what Kyle was like before his deification and then forcing us to awkwardly watch the absurd heights said deification reaches (notably the recurring shots of Kyle's uncharismatic comic "portrait"), Goldthwait maniacally and ingeniously establishes an elegant elegy for what it feels like to squirm, not as raunchy or frank as a well-crafted John Waters film, but just as resolute in producing unsettling tremors of intellectual discomfort.

Daybreakers

Vampire films. I'm a sucker for vampire films, especially when they receive a glowing review in The Globe and Mail. The Spierig Brother's Undead was a solid horror flick so I was pleasantly surprised to see that they crafted Daybreakers as well, this time with a significantly larger budget. Within, vampires have taken over the earth and humans have become farm animals, brutally supplying their eternal masters with a bountiful supply of blood. But humans have become scarce, and, without their abundant blood supply, vampires are turning into bat-like creatures known as sub-siders, more animal than humanoid. Modest vampire Edward Dalton (Ethan Hawke) (who refuses to drink human blood) searches for a blood alternative but his experiments come up short as time begins to run out. Enter Lionel 'Elvis' Cormac (Willem Dafoe) and partner Audrey Bennett (Claudia Karvan), two tough-as-nails humans looking for a way to mass market the cure for vampirism they've discovered, much to Dalton's surprise. The three form a tenacious triumvirate of dedicated researchers avidly searching for an experimental miracle. Fighting them are the forces of Bromley Corporation, lead by Charles Bromley (Sam Neill), who prefers the taste of human blood and isn't that interested in finding a cure. In the end, there's a sensational showdown quirkily equipped with a blistering bloodbath, dramatically delineating the high interest stakes.

While generally entertaining, Daybreakers is seriously predictable. Didn't have to use much brain power to figure out what was going to happen next. I also didn't take to the plot twist involving Bromley's daughter Alison (Isabel Lucas) and thought it could have been replaced with something more subtle. Ethically, the Spierig brothers seem to be saying that if everyone wants to be part of the elite, eventually their blood supply, the working person, will run out, and the only cure for their unholy elitism will be to become human once more. However, that transformation needs to be slowly nurtured (as the scene where the soldier vampires devour one another indicates) for otherwise revolutionary chaos will ensue ala The Soviet Union. Of course the only people capable of leading this quiet revolution have no means of marketing their humanitarian solution, but at least they're aware of the problem and are trying to do something about it.

The Fantastic Mr. Fox

Kid movies made for grownups that can be appreciated by both kids and grownups: does it get any better? Wes Anderson's The Fantastic Mr. Fox was recommended to me by my niece and I had nothing to see yesterday evening so I figured I'd check it out. And much to my content surprise did I discover that not only is it the new Wes Anderson film, but it's also my favourite Wes Anderson film since Bottle Rocket. All the trademark Wes Anderson motifs are present: a family experiencing difficulty as they learn and grow together; a cunning, sly, and exceptional traditional patriarch frustrated by the routine trappings of domestic life; a dynamic cast of colourful characters each with their own endearing idiosyncrasies; and a complementary fantasy landscape full of robust depth and life, detail after detail, potentially as envisioned by novelist Roald Dahl. Mr. Fox (George Clooney) suffers a mid-life crisis and decides to once again engage in the act of thievery to overcome his troubled financial situation and regain a taste of the good life. In order to do this he must rob three affluent farmers, Boggis (Robin Hurlstone), Bunce (Hugo Guiness), and Bean (Michael Gambon), while hiding his clandestine nightly activities from the disapproving Mrs. Fox (Meryl Streep). Bean proves to be a formidable adversary and sets out to hunt down the courageous Mr. Fox once and for all. And the only way Mr. Fox's forest community can survive in the aftermath is to objectively support his rash, subjective behaviour.

On the one hand, the film is saying "don't fuck around," for if you do, you're fucked, because the powers that be are going to squash your little rebellion and uproot your traditional order of things. But on the other, it states "give 'em hell," for that's what they do, and the resultant transformed world is accepted enthusiastically (eventually) by its inhabitants. Then again, said inhabitants only enthusiastically accept their newly transformed world because they had no other choice. But they accept it so well and are so happy within that it's tough to criticize Mr. Fox to severely.

Sherlock Holmes

Enjoyed Guy Ritchie's Sherlock Holmes. Within, Holmes (Robert Downey Jr.) and Watson (Jude Law) are much more human than some of their previous imaginings, Holmes eagerly pit fighting and Watson trying to avoid gambling compulsively. Don't know what pit fighting and compulsive gambling have to do with being more human, but they certainly weren't borderline ideal. They are tasked with capturing the resurrected Lord Blackwood (Mark Strong) who is attempting to 'cleanse' Britain's parliament in order to bring about a new world order. Professor Moriarty monitors the situation closely with the assistance of Holmes's former love interest, Irene Adler (Rachel McAdams). And the conventional Inspector Lestrade (Eddie Marsan) rounds out the cast, providing institutional relief, beguiled brooding, and unexpected assistance.

The plot's complex if not a bit over the top and the intellectual action is constant. Holmes comes across as a scatterbrained aloof eccentric who acutely, succinctly, and charismatically solves every presented problem. The dynamic between Holmes and Watson is playfully professional, Holmes trying hard not to hold back, Watson unafraid to physically express his discontent. Adler adds an additional layer of brainiacness whose sultry suppositions intensify the film's sensitivity. And Lord Blackwood's a creepy, maniacal, lunatic, whose particular brand of insanity is rationally and reasonably displayed. A definite treat for both its brains and brawn, Ritchie's Sherlock Holmes will likely enjoy a prominent position in the Holmesian canon.

Invictus

I may of missed the point of Clint Eastwood's Invictus, but I thought the first half was much stronger than the second. In the opening moments, newly elected South African President Nelson Mandela (Morgan Freeman) must deal with his new occupation's complicated demands, many of which have arisen from the historic racial tensions between black and white South Africans. His approach to governing is unexpected: let's try and rebuild post-Apartheid South Africa as one nation, forgetting the gross injustices inflicted upon the black population and focusing instead upon what can be done to positively change the system's current composition. Considering the black population's grievances and the fact that Mandela spent 27 years in a prison cell as a result of his activism, this Ghandiesque position is commendable insofar as it prefers bonding to bloodshed. While dealing with the strains of office, Mandela takes a shining to the Springboks Rugby Team, captained by Francois Pienaar (Matt Damon), due to the fact that South Africa is about to host the Rugby World Championship. Mandela's support for the Springboks is controversial insofar as they have been seen as a symbol of Apartheid by the black population for decades, South Africa's black residents generally cheering for the opposition. But Mandela sees the team as possessing the cultural power to unite South Africa's black and white populations, and believes that if they win the Rugby World Championship it will bring said populations closer together. This is the main point of the film and as it progresses it becomes the dominant focus, going so far as to show 15 to 20 minutes of the final championship match, which the Springboks win. I thought that Invictus would have been a lot stronger had it primarily focused upon the serious political demands of Mandela's first term in office, keeping the rugby match in the background for a longer period of time, and replacing scenes like the one where Mandela greets the entire team with others demonstrating the severity of the South African racial divide. This divide is mentioned, referred to, and recognized throughout Invictus's second half, but the manner in which it is showcased is far to warm and fuzzy for my liking, thereby minimizing the effects of South Africa's World Rugby Championship victory by overlooking the grim social realities that victory was symbolically supposed to overcome.

Avatar

James Cameron's Avatar is a science fiction treat for both environmentalists and epic film lovers alike. On the far off planet of Pandora, a greedy corporation is mining a precious mineral known as unobtainium, many deposits of which lie beneath sacred portions of the planet's lush forest. The indigenous Na'vi take none to kindly to the intrusion but have learned to live somewhat peacefully with their militaristic human neighbours. Until those neighbours decide it's time to destroy their revered Hometree, a scurrilous act which unites the Na'vi tribes for a final showdown around their venerated Tree of Souls. Leading them is Jake Sully (Sam Worthington), a paraplegic marine who, thanks to a remarkable scientific development, is able to inhabit and navigate a Na'vi body while sleeping in a special tank. Is his leadership divine? Has he been chosen by Eywa, the Na'vi's most prominent deity, to restore balance to the planet? Will his relationship with Na'vi beauty Neytiri (Zoe Saldana) bear forbidden fruit? Or will Parker Selfridge (Giovanni Ribisi) and his bombastic military commando sidekick Colonel Miles Quaritch (Stephan Lang) wipe out the Na'vi and have their way with Pandora's plunder?

The ending appealed to me although it's somewhat frustrating insofar as it's only a movie. It's a lot of fun and I probably would have rated it much higher if I was still fourteen. Nothing really that new presented and honestly, I preferred Avatar's prototype, Dune. Solid reimagining of Herbert's classic novel, nonetheless, which should find a massive, enthusiastic audience.

The Cove

Evidence within Louie Psihoyo's The Cove proves that dolphins are being slaughtered by the thousands in Taijii, Japan, each year. Beginning in September and lasting until March, fisherpeople within Taijii coral herds of dolphins in an isolated cove in order to sell them to the dolphin entertainment industry. But the leftover dolphins aren't released, they're killed for their highly toxic meat which is then sold to the Japanese population, often labelled as something different. In The Cove, a group of environmentalists, many associated with the Oceanic Preservation and Sea Shepherd Conservation Societies, resolutely fight to find a way to photograph the killing, risking imprisonment, and, according to dolphin rights activist Ric O'Barry, death, to obtain their footage. While the dolphin industry in Taijii is the principal focus of the film, other subjects include the problems associated with the International Whaling Commission, the reasons why many feel justified in hunting whales and dolphins, the ways in which the Japanese whaling lobby is buying support for their cause, and the general characteristics of dolphins themselves. As a meat eater, I feel that if I generally condemn those concerned with this business I'll come off sounding like a hypocrite, so I'll qualify my condemnation by saying that I generally support the eating of farmed meat, because farmers are usually concerned with maintaining healthy marketable populations of their commodities, not slaughtering wild populations that will have difficulty maintaining their present numbers. At the same time, I find the idea of dolphin farms to be incredibly cruel, almost as cruel as the bear farms which suck bile from a bear's gall bladder periodically throughout the day (or the ways in which chicken wings are produced, or . . . ). But I'm sure the cattle industry looks pretty horrible to the majority of Hindus so I can't judge their cultural traits seriously without first turning that lens inwards. The film explores Japan's relationship with whaling from a predominantly critical angle, which seems justified considering that populations take long periods of time to reestablish themselves. Hunting whales and dolphins because they eat fish is somewhat ridiculous, as is selling their mercury laden meat to consumers (imagine eating the belugas out of the St. Lawrence). All in all, I highly commend the courage and tenacity maintained by those responsible for creating The Cove, for their commitment demonstrates that it is possible to affect social change and constructively challenge the powers that be.

Tulpan

Set in the wild and barren steppes of Kazakhstan, Sergei Dvortsevoy's Tulpan chronicles the hard times facing romantic Asa (Tolepbergen Baisakalov) and his sister Samal (Samal Esljamova). Asa served as a sailor before moving to his sister's yurt in order to learn the ins and outs of sheep herding and go into business for himself. But Samal's husband Ondas (Ondas Besikbasov) won't give him any land until he's found a bride, and, unfortunately, the only girl fit for marriage in the region, Tulpan, wants nothing to do with him. Tulpan's intransigence combines with the belittling treatment 'city-boy' Asa receives from his in-laws to cause him to consider abandoning the pastoral life. But a miraculous birth and the strength of his family ties may just be enough to let him hold on to his dreams.

Jolanta Dylewska's cinematography is mesmerizing as is the introduction to Kazakhstanian culture. While the problems faced are somewhat universal, the particular contours of each situation are informed by local custom. Definitely bucolic and definitely remote, Asa's frustrations, foibles, and fantasies are delicately displayed amidst the unforgiving landscape, the vast plains reflecting his adventurous spirit, the isolated intimacy of farm life his sense of helplessness. There's also a quirky veterinarian who arguably steals the show (with Lynchian reverberations) and a pesky goat who clandestinely complicates things.

O'Horten

Bent Hamer's O'Horten examines the life and times of the shy and modest Odd Horten (Bård Owe) as he retires after 40 odd years of driving a train. The tale is pleasantly offbeat and pastorally piquant, quaintly following Horten's adventures throughout urban and rural Norway. His routine is solid and his disaffected and curious demeanour allows him to make new friends while maintaining old relationships as well. Sauntering along at a seductively subdued pace, the bizarre situations and precise improvisations bear a detached realistic resonance that haplessly disseminates charm. Bit slow at points and remarkably awkward (yet familiar), O'Horten's fugitively quotidian individualism will still likely produce two to three comfortable shakes of the head as viewers sit back and absorb the characterization.

Before Tomorrow (Le jour avant le lendemain)

Marie-Hélène Cousineau and Madeline Ivalu's Before Tomorrow (Le jour avant le lendemain) (a product of the Arnait Video Collective) presents some picturesque pastoral panoramas in a subdued and solitary (pseudo) soliloquy. An inuit tribe celebrates the joys of life and lives somewhat harmoniously together until strangers come with guns, germs, and steel which kill everyone but a young boy (Paul-Dylan Ivalu) and his resilient grandmother (Madeline Ivalu). They struggle throughout the winter, secluded in a cave with a only a tiny fire, traditional stories, seal meat, their companionship, and thoughts of a better life further south to sustain them. Similar to other survival tales such as Cast Away and Alien, Cousineau and Ivalu pull us into their protagonist's isolation, slowly forcing us to live and breathe their loneliness while also exposing us to the strength of their resolve. The narrative does unreel very slowly at times which has a somewhat soporific affect, but sitting back and watching its forlorn form mimic its sequestered content still produces heightened periods of awareness. An intricate examination of the traditional ways of Inuit peoples, Before Tomorrow exposes us to the harsh conditions they have faced throughout the centuries while aptly celebrating their vivacious spirit.

Star Trek

Was pretty disappointed with how much I enjoyed the new Star Trek film. Was upset when I originally heard about the idea because it seems so unoriginal, bringing back Kirk (Chris Pine), Spock (Leonard Nimoy and Zachary Quinto), and McCoy (Karl Urban) when so many new characters could have been created, forged, manufactured. Doesn't really seem like they're going where no one has gone before anyway; kind of seems like a number of Trekkian franchises went belly-up and in order not to lose sight of the genus, they returned to that genus's very genus, decadently exploding their genesis device, kind of a like a lazy, mundane cash grab. But at least the cash grab is thoroughly entertaining: wait 'till you see how Captain James T. Kirk was born. They certainly didn't slack on the script and characters like Sulu (John Cho), Chekov (Anton Yelchin), and Uhura (Zoe Saldana) are reborn with much more depth than they ever had in the original series (they actually have personalities [or are at least intellectually gifted] and at one point Sulu even saves Kirk's life). I'm growing rather tired of how many times time travel is used as the plot device upon which the narrative twirls in Star Trek films but it's used again and wow are all things Star Trek ever turned upside down (we are seriously starting over again from ground zero). The script goes a bit haywire with Spock's emotions: this version of Spock is much easier to upset than his predecessor which is somewhat terrific. Romulan villain Nero (Eric Bana) could have been more dastardly although script writers probably didn't want to make him too dynamic due to his working class origins. A lot of the film is downright implausible: impossible situation after impossible situation finds a split second solution that saves the day and sets up the next set of sensational circumstances. And the whole 'born leader' thing is kind of annoying. But like I said, I enjoyed it, it's fun to watch fantastic science fiction, a solid reworking of the franchise, nice.

The Class (Entre les murs)

Really liked Laurent Cantet's The Class (Entre les murs). It follows the life and times of a Parisian high school over the course of a year, focusing specifically upon Mr. Marin's (François Bégaudeau) multicultural French class. The realism is solid. The scenes within Mr. Marin's classroom are generally quite lengthy, demanding an extraordinary amount of discipline from their adolescent actors, reminding me of the long, patient shots found in Elephant, The Player, Touch of Evil, and Day for Night, albeit with a relatively stationary camera. And the teens never lose character, always seeming like rambunctious, asinine, aloof, acerbic, occasionally enthusiastic, rebellious teenagers, as Mr. Marin does his best to teach them the intricacies of French. Bégaudeau's performance is exceptional, the intelligent hip pseudo-snob employing a watered down version of the socratic method while suffering the consequences of its design, treading the fine line between friendship and discipline. Unfortunately, a troubled student lashes out during one of his uncharacteristic bursts of vitriol and Marin's then forced to deal with the personal and administrative consequences of his somewhat lackadaisical style.

Definitely complex.

There's a bit of sensationalism during a scene where Marin confronts two students in the playground for ratting him out, but this superrealism can be forgiven inasmuch as you can expect teachers to forget their role from time to time as their daily grind's routine wears on. The difficulties associated with trying to find educational solutions to extraordinarily complex pedagogical problems receive serious attention within, begging the question hyperactive hypocrisy or subdued solidarity? Can you find a way to teach the majority of your students how to teach themselves? Does enabling their critical insights invigorate their wit at the expense of their learning? Can constructive enmity be used as a didactic tool? What if your subjective approach begins to threaten your professional objectivity, progressive though it may be?

The Class examines these questions and thankfully doesn't provide any answers because there definitely aren't any (although many exist from time to time) which only ennobles their pursuit. Students are definitely a handful, so are teachers. So keep teaching. And learning. And causing trouble.

One Week

Michael McGowan's One Week chronicles the impromptu road trip of recently diagnosed cancer patient Ben (Joshua Jackson). Upon hearing that he may only have 2 years to live and that only 10% of those suffering from his particular variety of cancer survive, Ben decides to hit the road motorcycle style and travel from Toronto to Tofino to figure shit out. His fiancée (Samantha Pierce played by Liane Balaban) and family are notably distressed and continually try to convince him to return home while Ben reflects upon the status of his relationship and whether or not he's truly in love. The narrator (Campbell Scott) supplies us with a constant stream of secondary information regarding the positive effects of Ben's trip (the good things that happen to those he meets because he met them) and we're treated to shots of several of small town Canada's giant tourist attractions including Wawa's Canada Goose and Port Carling's picturesque Segwun photo collage (not to mention Lord Stanley's Cup).

The shots of Ben's road trip don't unreel chronologically so don't be surprised if he's shown riding through British Columbia while still in Banff, but the scenes themselves prominently display so much of Western and Central Canada's rustic beauty that they're well worth the rental price. The cameo's from Gordon Downie and Joel Plaskett are a nice touch as well. Jackson sort of fluffs the one scene where he has to display some emotional depth but Balaban confidently backs him up and it almost passes unnoticed. A romantic look at the benefits of following your dreams and an exciting examination of one man's self-exploration, One Week's well worth the trip, especially if you've already travelled from Ontario to B.C. 3 or 4 times and want to reacquaint yourself with forgotten details of the road.

Whatever Works

Never thought I'd live to see Woody Allen and Larry David team up together but that's what they've done in Whatever Works, another tale of a neurotic sexually repressed manic depressive doing his best to get by. Within, Allen recycles a number of the themes that have successfully worked for him in the past but this time rather than star in the film himself his (alter?) ego has been replaced by Larry David (as Boris Yellnikoff) (whose resemblance to Allen is remarkable). Boris speaks to the screen and is aware he's being filmed even though his fellow cast members have no idea which simultaneously accentuates and deconstructs his mania. A disgruntled genius, Boris cast off the trappings of the ivory tower in order to teach chess, scraping by a meagre living as he presents his antagonistic reflections to anyone stuck listening to him. Enter Melodie St. Ann Celestine (Evan Rachel Wood), a troubled Southerner homeless and destitute in the streets of New York. Boris takes her in, grows fond of her, and the rest of the film unreels in response to their off-beat odd coupling.

It's definitely a Woody Allen film and will most likely appeal to most of his fans. Seeing Larry David play a hapless genius as opposed to the hapless Larry David is fun, as is seeing what happens to Melodie's parents when they arrive in New York City. There are times when it's impossible to separate Larry David from Boris Yellnikoff which decreases the dramatic affects of the characterization, but I don't think this is a problem. Nothing really that new, but so much fun all the same.

Where the Wild Things Are

Where the Wilds Things Are is a fun-filled adventure for kids and adults alike. Young Max (Max Records) has a fight with his mom (Catherine Keener) and takes off to a mysterious island where he encounters several of Maurice Sendak's fabled creations. Cooly enough, Max soon finds himself elected King after befriending and destroying several dwellings with rage filled Carol (James Gandolfini). As time passes, Max and the beasties socialize, have a dirt fight, explore the mysterious island, philosophize about life, and build a new home (while Max comes to realize that being supreme ruler has its fair share of pitfalls). The subject matter's tame, the resolution picturesque, the narrative complex in its simplicity, and the characters overflowing with childishly provocative wisdom.

The friendly monsters each represent a different component of the troubled childhood psyche, generally united in their desire to remain somewhat aloof. Their observations are modestly delivered in a bewildered yet confident fashion that adds a significant degree of magical charisma to the film. Director Spike Jonze consistently displays his offbeat comic charm as educational systems and grown-up situations are subtly satirized. And every shot of the Wild Things gazing peculiarly into the camera produces youthful feelings of unrestrained happiness.

Pretty wild.

Funny People

Funny People's pretty funny but the last third of the movie tanks. Extremely successful comedian George Simmons (Adam Sandler) gives down on his luck funny man Ira Wright (Seth Rogan) the opportunity to write jokes for him after he discovers he has a terminal illness. The two develop an odd sort of acquaintanceship, Wright's fortunes improve, and Simmons is miraculously cured. Afterwards, George decides to make amends for his lecherous youth and make it up with one time girlfriend Laura (Leslie Mann), at which point the film takes a disastrous turn, with even the fight between George, Ira, and Laura's husband Clarke (Eric Bana) falling flat. Which is unfortunate since so many films end when their cantankerous antihero awakens moralized (As Good as it Gets for instance), and director/writer Judd Apatow decided not to follow this trend.

There are more problems: in Funny People's last act, we lose supporting characters Leo Koenig (Jonah Hill) and Mark Taylor Jackson (Jason Schwartzman) whose offbeat temperaments helped carry the opening moments. There's a terrible musical interlude where George sings a maudlin song whose only saving grace is that it must have been ironic (it attempts to generate sympathy for Simmons but we haven't known the character for long enough to grow attached, so Apatow circumvents our expectations by making the song terrible, although, perhaps the irony is absent insofar as we should have been expecting something terrible). And unfortunately, the dramatic aspects of the script require a little bit more depth than either Rogan or Sandler provide, which, to their credit, only increases the value of their comedy, for you have to be really funny to find yourself playing dramatic roles which are somewhat out of your league.

But Funny People has many positive features as well. James Taylor, Norm MacDonald, and Eminem have hilarious cameos within, as do many others. Throughout, we consistently catch glimpses of the extremely cheesy films Simmons has starred in during his career, an example of Sandler humbly making fun of his earlier work. And George and Ira positively change and grow throughout as a result of their constructive enmity, Ira falling for complicated love interest Daisy (Aubrey Plaza), George learning how to not be such a dickhole.

Not bad.

Inglourious Basterds

Quentin Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds is an exceptional film. It's a tribute to film, a film fanatic's crowning achievement, a celluloidic lapis lazuli heuristically annihilating the Third Reich. Strong performances all around, Christoph Waltz (Col. Hans Landa) trying to steal the show ala Frank Booth unsuccessfully due to Brad Pitt's (Lt. Aldo Raine) non-Jeffrey Beaumontesque counterpoint. Aren't these names simply outstanding: Lt. Aldo Raine, Col. Hans Landa, Sgt. Donny Donowitz (Eli Roth), Shosanna Dreyfus (Mélanie Laurent), Marcel (Jacky Ido). Set up and executed like a post-modern fairy tale, Basterds unreels like a quaintly distinct incandescent extremity, bluntly interdicting fictional necessities in a multicultural absurdist panorama. Every introduced character is compelling; every scene an odd mixture of frank subtlety; the pipe, how about that pipe!; and I really don't know what else to say. Don't want to go into too much detail and ruin it (especially considering that I'm reviewing it six weeks later) and know that I won't have enough time to analyze it until at least mid-December. So I'll just say that, those things, and hope you like it, or don't.

Trailer Park Boys: Countdown to Liquor Day

Am not the biggest fan of Trailer Park Boys: Countdown to Liquor Day. Mike Clattenburg's characteristic trashy charm is certainly present but the film itself simply isn't that funny. Don't get me wrong, it's great seeing Ricky (Rob Wells) gain the confidence to finally start bossing around Julian (John Paul Tremblay) and what fan of the series could avoid feeling stricken as Bubbles (Mike Smith) falls in love? But too many of the jokes are recycled, seeing Ricky try and graduate high school simply isn't as funny as when he went after his grade 10 (probably the funniest plot twist of the series), and J-Roc (Jonathon Torrens) and Tyrone (Tyrone Parsons) don't make solid substitutes for the hapless Cory (Cory Bowles) and Trevor (Michael Jackson). Additionally, too much of the focus is on Randy (Patrick Roach) and Lahey (John Dunsworth) and Lahey's insane ramblings simply went to far (although I did appreciate their ridiculous depths). Countdown to Liquor Day is definitely on a grander scale: Lahey's opened a new trailer park and everyone has the option to settle down and fly right if they can only read the writing on the wall and stop fucking around. But they can't, which is good, and they won't, which is also good, but there's got to be another way to hilariously keep doing the same thing over and over again if The Trailer Park Boys are to survive as a credible film franchise.

(500) Days of Summer

Marc Webb's (500) Days of Summer playfully illustrates the pain associated with falling for the wrong person in a style that reflects its protagonist's neurosis. Just forget about her, get over it, move on, times change; unfortunately for Tom Hansen (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), this is easier said than done because he's fallen for Summer Finn (Zooey Deschanel), a fickle, mercurial, beauty, whose catlike credence has designated Tom as plaything (although she feels bad about it). The film jumps back and forth between different days in Tom's infatuation as he suffers through his enjoyment of suffering. It's pretty funny and functions as a warning for those in similar situations: bail, get out, forget about it, it won't work, even if you secretly don't want it to work, even if you like suffering, even if suffering is all you have. Having Tom work for a company that creates greeting cards was a great idea. Good flick.

Gamer

Brian Taylor and Mark Neveldine's Gamer synthesizes reality television and online gaming in a sadistic salute to mendicant masochism. Computer genius Ken Castle (Michael C. Hall [Six Feet under]) has created two billion dollar programs: Society and Slayers. Prime time participants have had nanites inserted into their brains in order to enable a third party to control their actions with hypersensitive virtual controllers. In Society, such participants live out the carnal fantasies of their masters for the benefit of their adoring public. In Slayers, death row inmates are given the chance to avoid the electric chair/ if they can survive 30 rounds of a bellicose bloodbath orchestrated within a simulated war zone. Running man Kable's (Gerard Butler) almost free, his controller Simon (Logan Lerman) a world renowned celebrity. But has Kable been framed by Castle for a crime he didn't commit and will an underground band of hackers be able to reunite him with his wife (and Society star) Angie (Amber Valletta), just in time for them to rescue their daughter?

It's all just a matter of time, depending on the ratings.

Gamer's a bit cheesily melodramatic and predictable but it's also entertaining and well executed (including a cameo from Star Trek's John De Lancie). It competently examines the age-old appetites versus intellect dynamic by creating a world where people ravenously devour realistic fantasies at the expense of the impoverished individuals forced to willingly yield their pride, while simultaneously championing methods of destabilizing this dominant discourse. There's also a scene which is so revolting that it ruined waffles for me (a sign of great directing). Taylor and Neveldine painstakingly point out that there are things that remain popular even though they're humiliating and that working class dignity is something for which people must fight. Their portrayal of the future resonates in the present and stands as a prominent warning against fascist social slayers.

G. I. Joe: the Rise of Cobra

Can't say much about Stephen Sommer's G. I. Joe: the Rise of Cobra. Probably shouldn't have gone to see it but was a fan of the cartoon growing up, and, consequently, nothing could stop me from viewing it, not well reasoned arguments articulating that I generally dislike this kind of movie, or the unfortunate reality that while these nostalgic flicks are supposed to reassert some long lost kernel of youth, they don't, and probably never will, because, they're lame, period.

But oh well.

The Joe's are no longer super tough icons of natural militaristic bravado inasmuch as they now require extraodrinarily complex machines to perform their monumentous tasks (a reflection upon how much more technologically dependent we are now than we were in the 80's), but, while engaging in battle, battles which require an exceptional degree of split-second extremely athletic mental and physcial ability, instant decision making and what have you, they still stop to taunt, encourage, or hit on one another, ridiculously relevant content reminiscent of its cartoon form. Where the film really fails is the ending. Screenwriters Stuart Beattie, David Elliot, and Paul Lovett obviously sincerely disliked Superman I's closing moments, for in Joe Ripcord (Marlon Wayans) has a jet fast enough to track down and destroy two deadly missals fired at targets on either side of the globe, lickedy split. Terrible, but, like I said, I probably shouldn't have gone to see this, although, unfortunately, nothing in this world could have stopped me.

Brüno

I'm afraid Brüno simply isn't gay enough.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

David Yates's adaptation of J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince brings the novel to life in a maturely adolescent fashion. Harry's (Daniel Radcliffe) back for his sixth year at Hogwarts and Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters are unleashing carnage and destruction in their wake. Professor Dumbledore (Michael Gambon) teaches Harry about Voldemort's past by means of a number of catalogued memories while Hermione (Emma Watson) and Ron (Rupert Grint) struggle with the complicated realities of their mutual attraction. The film sparingly presents a number of the novel's notable novelties such as the underground trade in love potions which keeps the narrative firmly rooted in Potter lore while also highlighting its youthful candour. When juxtaposed with its darkened domain, wherein the heroes must deal with confrontational pressures of position, age, and responsibility, the result is an entertaining synthesis of mirth and menace, well worth the 150 odd minutes.

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen

Michael Bay's Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen picks up with the Autobots and the American military chasing down villainous Decepticons throughout planet Earth. Humanoid hero Sam Witwicky (Shia LaBeouf) is preparing for both college and a long term relationship with love interest Mikaela Banes (Megan Fox) before discovering that his previous encounter with the Allspark has given him exceptional scientific and linguistic abilities. And Starscream (Charlie Adler) has rallied the troops with the assistance of The Fallen (Tony Todd) and is preparing to resurrect Megatron (Hugo Weaving) so that he can lead an invasion force to use an ancient device buried within a pyramid to harvest the energon lying within our Sun.

But he didn't count on contending against the power of love.

With nearly two and a half hours of footage, the film covers a tremendous amount of ground planted with the same silly comedic distractions and fast-paced shallow dialogue that dominated its predecessor. At the same time, with so many characters demanding their voice be heard, and so many plot threads requiring a cinematic stitch, I suppose terse dialogue is necessary if not disappointing. John Turtorro (Agent Simmons) steals the show once again and revitalizes the second act with an energetically offbeat and charismatic transformation. And there were a number of points after the second hour where I thought Revenge of the Fallen was going to end in an Empire Strikes Back like fashion (without a carbonite parallel) and leave us eagerly anticipating the next installment. But it kept going and the audience kept cheering and I couldn't help feeling old for searching for something more than explosive battles, competent clichés (Turtorro stating "not on my watch" for instance), and frustrating familial filibusters.

One Transformer did stand out for me however because his presence attached a bit of ambiguity to the either/or dynamic lying at the heart of the Autobot/Decepticon feud. Jetfire (Mark Ryan) was once a Decepticon but decided to join the Autobots after centuries of fighting. True, there are still only two choices, Autobots or Decepticons, but it's nice to see a freethinking character who was able to change his allegiances based upon his subjective interpretation of his historical circumstances.

Jerichow

Christian Petzold's Jerichow cultivates the convoluted hardline between economics and ethics by establishing a complicated love triangle hewn according to jealous guidelines. Thomas (Benno Fürmann) finds work as a cucumber harvester after losing everything only to one day be granted an exceptional opportunity to work as the full-time driver for Ali Ŏzkan (Hilmi Sözer), alcoholic owner of a variety of snack stands. Ali's wife Laura (Nina Hoss) has little love for her abusive husband and quickly falls for quiet Thomas after said husband has to many drinks one sunny afternoon. Thomas plays by his own rules in a resignedly loyal fashion and while wishing to remain fidel can't overcome the immediate demands of his attraction. Laura's dark past keeps her committed to Ali while yearning for something more and the two lovers create a plot whose exposition results in an intrepidly ironic resolution.

Jerichow competently explores a hopeless and foolishly profound situation wherein which three individuals attempt to do what is right while consistently colliding with what is present. Plans, projections, and unforeseen disruptions tie together their various schemes while simultaneously unravelling the knot. There's a choice, a result, a consequence, each of which could have been mitigated if it wasn't for the unfathomable dictates of 'required.' Solace in circumstance, predictability in numbers, regrets amidst happenstance.

Hell no.

Australia

Baz Luhrmann's Australia is a sincerely grand spectacle shot in the Gone with the Wind epic style minus about an hour and one intermission. Lady Sarah Ashley (Nicole Kidman) moves from Britain to Australia's Northern Territory with the intent of selling her husband's ranch, known as Faraway Downs. But upon her arrival she discovers he's dead and that there's been some seriously underhanded wheeling and dealing taking place on their land. Hence, she decides to drove (move cattle across a distance) her husband's cattle to Darwin in order to prevent his rival King Carney (Bryan Brown) from monopolizing the business. To drove she must find a drover and a tough-as-nails-plays-by-his-own-rules-no-one-hires-me-no-one-fires-me Drover (Hugh Jackman) surfaces and reluctantly agrees to assist. To stop them, Carney requires a villain, and weaselly-dead-beat-dad-environmentally-abusive Neil Fletcher (David Wenham) agrees to arrest their stride. Tying together and narrating the different multilayered threads is an Aboriginal child named Nullah (Brandon Walters) who desperately wants to avoid being taken away from his home and sent to a mission. And in the second half Japan invades, disrupting their insatiable antagonisms and turning both old and new worlds upside down.

A lot of what takes place in Australia is sappy, predictable, and highly melodramatic: but it's the best damned melodrama I've seen in years and every time I knew what was going to happen I happily sat back and soaked up the sentiments. Lady Ashley is one brazen, solid, tenacious, heroine who lives by a strict and passionate code which occasionally yields unfortunate yet necessary results. The Drover droves dynamically and thanks to Lady Ashley's inspiration overcomes many of his social phobias eventually maintaining that certain things simply shouldn't be. And it's simply great to watch them ferociously fall in love even though snobby socialites turn up their noses and utter banal witticisms at their expense. An epic tale complete with heartfelt harmonies and progressive social symphonies, Australia may be a bit hard to take at times, but the overall product is downright resilient, all down the line.

Waltz with Bashir (Vals Im Bashir)

Ari Folman's Waltz with Bashir's jam packed with divergent expressions of militaristic bravado condensed into an animated arsenal whose ending champions peace. Film director Ari Folman can't remember the details of his war experience and begins trying to unravel them through a series of conversations with old wartime associates. The frame becomes less opaque but he still can't remember the details of a Palestinian massacre that took place in Lebanon during the early 1980s. Searching and seeking and sleuthing and suffering. Roll away the stone, deal with it on your own. And that stone is brilliantly rolled away no doubt explaining why Waltz received so much praise last year in various film circuits. The ending's as powerful as that from Neil LaBute's In the Company of Men, a stark realistic extended yet minimalist encounter with death, serpentinely subverting the previous material's form, highlighting the necessity of peace (in Company the encounter's with life). The score contains jingoist jargon, retro rhythms, symphonic stitches, and electronic nuts. A multidimensional collapse built into an unforgettable relapse.

The Examined Life

Astra Taylor's The Examined Life presents intimate encounters with 9 feisty thinkers as they move about pondering the world around them. Daily life's complexities examined through particularly constructive multidimensional lenses, Cornel West, Avital Ronnell, Peter Singer, Slavoj Žižek, Martha Nussbaum, Michael Hardt, Kwame Anthony Appiah, Judith Butler, and Sunaura Taylor offer insights into God, death, responsibility, politics, and prada within. Can poetry and spirituality be found in a dimension of pure mathematical abstraction? Are expensive clothes worth their ethical price tag? How does one transfer Central American revolutionary political ideas to the landscape of the United States? What are the benefits of a road leading nowhere? How do we deal with grandiose philosophical treatises which leave out substantially significant details yet find themselves culturally reified? How do we progressively utilize an anxiety disorder's strength? Have you ever been so wrapped up in a book you've had to stop reading to prevent the ecstasy from becoming overbearing? Melancholia, failure, rebuilding, commitment, starvation, the Blues. And I've finally heard someone else say they've been nervous ordering coffee! A profound treat for the intellectual senses, Taylor's The Examined Life offers poignant insights in explosively lucid bits and bites and shouldn't be missed if you're even remotely interested in viewing philosophy in motion.

Doubt

John Patrick Shanley's Doubt presents a simple story layered with political complexities in a straightforward manner. Sister Aloysius Beauvier (Meryl Streep) austerely respects the rules and regulations of her church's code but nevertheless her shrewd devotion challenges its gender based hierarchy when a Priest's conduct seems to be crossing the line. Father Brendan Flynn (Philip Seymour Hoffman) delivers heartfelt homilies and appears to be genuinely caring for his flock but his methods become suspect and Beauvier launches an unrelenting underground crusade to have them rigorously reprimanded. But Sister James (Amy Adams) disagrees with her verdict and demonstrates a sincere degree of courage herself as suspicion and rumour threaten the integrity of their congregation. And Mrs. Miller illustrates how hard it can be being the loving mother of a child who receives contempt from both his classmates and his abusive father, Viola Davis providing a profound cameo whose impact is strong enough to momentarily distract the audience from the rest of the cast's assiduous acting.

Shanley's screenplay provides Doubt's principal characters with a stark cinescape within which to display their raw talents and they succeed in infusing potentially stale caricatures with a sincere degree of dynamically subdued emotion. With difficult subject matter displayed in a directly ambiguous fashion, Doubt deftly demonstrates the refined results of one woman's committed, determined resolve, while simultaneously pointing out how seriously problematic the maintenance of such a disposition can be.

Sawdust and Tinsel (Gycklarnas afton)

It's difficult to discuss Ingmar Bergman's Sawdust and Tinsel without describing exactly what happens so lets just say it's a hard-boiled bucolic tale of a traveling circus's harrowing hardships. The principle theme is fidelity and how love transforms and evolves according to the designs of each distinct challenge it faces. Time, the grind, the future in mind. Bergman uses his profound sensitivity (in the form of a lurid tale of temptation and trust) to lure us into his narrative and adjust to its particular pace. Within, we live and breathe the trials and tribulations of the Alberti Circus as they try their best to make a buck. The politics of the performing arts are displayed as Albert Johansson (Åke Grönberg) must borrow costumes from a local theatre, and insights into an aging traveling artist's psyche are provided as Albert explains to his ex-wife (Annika Tretow) why he's never been able to settle down.

There's also a bear.

If looking for a glimpse of Bergman's early work or an examination of the realities interrogating a manner of life that often isn't the focus of a feature film, Sawdust and Tinsel is worth checking out. Playful and poignant, tragic and lucid, all the while reminding one of the importance of not taking their selves to seriously, it instills a romantic and dedicated cantoring caravan with a profound degree of vivacious sentiment, dealing with that which must be dealt, rolling on down the road.

Gran Torino

Clint Eastwood's back at it again playing and directing the lovably cantankerous and bitter hero of Gran Torino. Walt Kowalski tells it like he sees it, holding back nothing, ever, period. Does he want to confess his sins to an overeducated virgin straight out of the seminary (Christopher Carley): no he does not. Does he want to have a potentially soul searching conversation with his acquisitive granddaughter (Dreama Walker): once again, no. Does he want to do anything that doesn't fit his perfectly prescribed and particular way of doing things: shit no. There's a routine, he knows it well, he follows it, that's it, end of story.

Until he catches pesky Thao Vang Lor (Bee Vang) trying to steal his prized Gran Torino from his garage one night. At first, his response is predictable: stay the hell off my lawn I should have shot you yap yip. But his wife has died and he has nothing to do so he begins to take an interest in his shy sensitive neighbour, especially after a local gang tries to unconditionally recruit him. Walt sticks up for young Thao but the gangland politics prove to be pernicious, leaving him stuck between his rock and their hard place, searching for a strict solution to a grizzly state of affairs. Basically, he's lived his whole life quietly suffering from his war wounds and now has a chance to vindicate himself for his crimes. So he digs in his heels and responds with his gut, eventually providing a shattered family with a sincere degree of holistic satisfaction.

It's Clint Eastwood at his best, delivering another strong performance in a downtrodden caustic tragedy stripped straight from the hood. Can one curmudgeony man's dying attempt to befriend a neighbour make up for a lifetime of familial and communal neglect? Why yes, yes it can, and Gran Torino illustrates how seriously affective one man's commitment to solidarity can be, this is a bar padre, you'll have a drink, she likes you, go with it, yeah.

Revolutionary Road

Sam Mendes's Revolutionary Road spikes a solid conjugal punch with a healthy dose of conflicting viewpoints regarding the process of prioritization. What comes first, your heart or your responsibilities?, your dreams or your obligations? Frank (Leonardo DiCaprio) and April (Kate Winslet) Wheeler's marriage convolutes the aforementioned polarities leaving them stark yet twisted, barren yet novel. The Wheelers meet fall in love at a party then find themselves married. Frank has a hard time clueing in and April doesn't take to being a housewife. They come up with an ingenious plan to break from the suburbs and escape to Paris much to the confusion of the neighbouring Campbells (Kathyrn Hahn and David Harbour) and the delight of local lunatic John Givings (Michael Shannon). But promotion, pregnancy, and adultery complicate their departure, leaving room for many a heart breaking fight and several despotic discussions.

It's a good look at the darker side of marriage, commitment, fidelity, routine. I mean, neither of them even speak French (although no one mentions this [a sly take on how to socially deal with spur of the moment surprise situations]). Frank's a dick and to caught up in the ways of the world to seriously listen to his beautiful wife, thereby breaking her romantic heart and rupturing his own. And only Mr. Givings shares in their dreams, eventually unleashing a monstrous onslaught of vituperative contempt after discovering there may be a change of plan.

Strong emotional impact, neither kitschy nor melodramatic, heartfelt, conditioned, real; a solid American movie. There should be some serious debate regarding whether or not this is a feminist or a masculinist film, meaning that's its packed with critical controversy. Love, loyalty, leisure, loss, I don't know anything about being married but understand that it lasts for a long time and some people have trouble adjusting to the status quo, no matter what the price tag. Could save your marriage or break it apart if you happened to love movies as much as I do and were married to me. Reason number 723 . . .