Dogs Bark

To Serve Man - - Never Let Me Go (2010) - - 18 March 2011

Recommended. This very disturbing film, directed by Mark Romanek (One Hour Photo) from a Kazuo Ishiguro (The Remains Of The Day) novel, anticipates the day when clones are institutionally raised in order to harvest their organs. Do such cattle have souls, it asks. Cary Mulligan (An Education), Keira Knightley (Pride And Prejudice), and Andrew Garfield (The Social Network) play a trio of ‘donors.’ Through their emotional struggles, the plot does not equivocate that human sentience doesn’t need a womb. As for us, there’s a terrifyingly reveal when a doctor asks, “Do you think anyone would go back to when people were dying of heart disease, lung cancer, liver failure?” Do you? The ending is unhappy for the characters and for us, as a moral is pointlessly enunciated. I found Rachael Portman’s (Chocolat) score a little clumsy, too.  But despite this, Never Let Me Go is a thoughtful look at a very possible apocalyse. 

Note: The nice title song sung by Jane Monheit is not the 1954 Johnny Ace hit, later recorded by Aretha Franklin.

Numb And Number - - La Teta Asustada [The Milk Of Sorrow] (2009) - - 16 March 2011

Not recommended. Within the first fifteen minutes of The Milk of Sorrow, a dying old woman sings a song about her rape and torture and the woman’s daughter is told that she has a potato rooting in her vagina. Everyone knows that in the late 20^th century such horrendous violence really happened in Peru. But I just could let loose of that potato, which the plot seems to forget. That’s what’s wrong with this movie. The daughter (Magaly Solier), it’s opined, has been poisoned by her mother’s milk, driven to madness and fear. The literal translation of the Peruvian title is The Terrified Tit. Like her mother she sings her terror and at one point it seems that her employer, an upper-class concert pianist, is connecting through her songs. But that never happens. And I’m still worried about that potato by the end of writer/director Claudia Llosa’s confused story.

Good Ole Boys Don’t Cry - - Get Low (2010) - - 13 March 2011

Recommended. It’s a bit disheartening to realize that Robert Duvall and Bill Murray, between them, have fewer Oscars than Hilary Swank. However, it seems creating an indelible character, as John Wayne or Jimmy Stewart knew, is not all that appreciated despite how hard it really is.  Wayne had to mock his work in Rio Bravo or The Searchers in order to get a statue. Meanwhile in the same movie, Duvall, as Lucky Ned Pepper, was starting to assemble the parts of Get Low’s Felix Bush.  Likewise Bill Murray, who must sleep with a smirk on his face.  So if you love these guys doing what they do, which I do, love seeing Lucas Black as an adult version of the kid he played in Sling Blade, and don’t mind a wasted Sissy Spacek, you might like Get Low.  Otherwise, rent Network or Groundhog Day and wonder where those actors went.

Endlessly Circling The Drain - - Night Moves (1975) - - 9 March 2011

Strongly Recommended. There are some among us on these mean streets who think that 1976 was the last chance for America to become truly exceptional. Vietnam, Nixon, peak oil, Toyota had co-conspired to knock us off that famous high horse.  If we could just learn the lesson, maybe this Philadelphia miracle would finally work. Then came Reagan. . . But for one shining moment, we had neo noir, exemplified by Don Siegel’s films, Jim Rockford’s trailer and this little gem, Night Moves, directed by Arthur Penn to another great Michael Small score.  Harry Moseby (Gene Hackman) is no Sam Spade as his wife’s lover (Harris Yulin) can sarcastically observe and Delly Grastner (an obscenely young Melanie Griffith) isn’t a Sternwood daughter. Mosby can slap around Quentin the gunsel (a young, obscene James Woods) but in the end, hand still reaching for the wheel, possibly his last breath - - you just don’t know. Yes, you do.

A Story With No Name - - The American (2010) - - 5 March 2011

Recommended. There’s a point in this movie where the protagonist (George Clooney) is in a bar and Once Upon A Time In The West is on the TV. “Sergio Leone. Italian.” comments the bartender. If you like subtlety, this moment could kill The American. In fact, there’s a bit of this to ignore The American on the road to full enjoyment. But there is also a lot to happily dispose of . . . like, thrill-kill, over-the-top editing (Andrew Hulme, Wicker Park) and hackneyed photography (Martin Ruhe). In this sense, The American is an anti-thriller just as Leone made anti-Westerns or Coppola’s (another Italian) great anti-spy,  Harry Caul  (The Conversation).  These seem to be the directors that Dutch director Anton Corbijn intended to homage, certainly not Antonioni as some claim (see my review of Revanche). Clooney returns to the bleakness of Michael Clayton for inspiration in another fine performance. This is a well-made movie.

Paid In Full - - Revanche (2008) - - 2 March 2011

Recommended. In the first ten minutes of Revanche we’re piloted into a simple romance noir, in this case, between an Austrian bank robber and an inarticulate Ukrainian hooker. Brutality and sex, dead ahead. However, with each understated turn, the viewer incrementally dawns upon the humanity of Alex (Johannes Krisch) and Tamara (Irina Potapenko). When the story goes round an abruptly disturbing bend, we emerge into a complicated new landscape. That’s the magic of this nifty little movie. Director/writer Götz Spielmann speaks these lines with the Antonioni film grammar, a dialect I’m hearing often in this new century. These include, languid shot durations on a fixed camera, actors entering and exiting the frame and the deep soundtrack, capturing every rustle of the leaves. In this lexicon, sound is a character and context has an emotional message. Revanche,  the word can mean ‘revenge.’ It can also mean ‘the return of what’s due.’

That’s a Lousy Way To Treat Your Wife - - River Of No Return (1952) - - 26 February 2011

Recommended. Sometimes when I have to stay home sick, I pull on my oldest bathrobe, sit on the couch with crackers and soup and watch this movie. I guess because this is Marilyn Monroe at her most maternal. The vessel for her mammalian effusions is Tommy Rettig, from Lassie, whose name is ‘Mark.’  What . . . ever, Dr. Freud, I think it’s a splendid little Western, directed by Otto Preminger. Most critics find it a little hackneyed, while grumpily admitting the spectacular Banff (and vavoom) photography. This journey down river is a splendid example of 50’s Cinemascope. Mother Marilyn hated the picture and her performance was at the height of her ar-tic-u-la-tion affectation, the result of bad-actor lessons from her coach. Despite this, she has great chemistry with her leading man, Robert Mitchem, echoing their pre-Hollywood relationship at Lockheed. You don’t know the story?  Click on the link to hear Bob’s version.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oZKUtW-aDHM&feature=player_embedded