"Juan is the Loneliest Number That You'll Ever Do"
or
"To Javier and Javier Not"
Vicky Christina Barcelona(Woody Allen, 2008) The latest film in what will, no doubt, be called Woody Allen's "Scarlett" period, Vicky Christina Barcelona was shot almost totally in Spain, and benefits from the change of location. It's a large part of what drives the plot and the two women who vacation in Spain for different purposes.
Vicky (Christina Hall) is studying Catalan architecture (particularly Gaudi), and spends the time in Spain as a prelude to getting married to staid, reliable Doug (Chris Messina). Christina (Scarlett Johansson) has just written and directed an 18 minute film starring herself, and broken up with the latest in a series of men in impetuous affairs. She has no business in Spain, but goes to spend time with Vicky and get away. Vicky values the safe and dependable. Christina is searching, "certain only of what she doesn't want," as explained by a ubiquitous Narrator (Christopher Welch), whose constant comments make the film feel less a visual experience than a story with pictures.
While in Spain, the two women are approached by darkly handsome artist Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem) who offers to fly the women to the town of Oviedo for the weekend to view the Gaudi works, drink wine, and make love. Vicky thinks Juan is a creep. Christina is intrigued, but both women end up going, Vicky to protect her impetuous friend.
Juan is soulful, attentive, but it is obvious he is in love with his ex-wife Maria Elena (Penelope Cruz), despite the fact a) they couldn't make it work, and b) she stabbed him in a rage. ("Oh, that..." she says dismissively when it's brought up).
Things get complicated, but never enough for the Narrator to be lost for words or explanations, and when Maria Elena shows up again in Juan Antonio's life, the movie turns, at equal turns poetic, and dangerous. Despite the mannered ways that Allen's films can frequently turn out, this group of actors is particularly well-suited to working outside of Allen's tic's and rhythms. The closest any of the characters come to the Allen neurotic persona (a staple in Allen's films, either played by Allen or a stand-in) is Vicky, but she's much more sure of herself, if not her situation.
Bardem is sadly relaxed in the film, but Penelope Cruz is a force of nature, this generation's Sophia Loren. After being stuck in some unmemorable films with some straight-jacketed performances, the last few years and films have displayed a bravura presence, and she runs a gamut of emotions in this one to full effect. It's a tough role to pull off--she's held up as an icon until she appears, and when she shows up later in the film, arriving bedraggled from the hospital after a suicide attempt, Cruz more than fills the bill, with her extremes of behavior never seeming contrived or phony.
And Johansson has rarely been better represented on-screen—one close-up in particular of Christina listening to Juan Antonio explaining his love for his ex-wife fairly burns on the screen with resentment.
It may ultimately prove to be a minor Allen film, but as a change of pace and an expansion of style it couldn't be more successful.
"What Kind of a Kid Comes Up with an Invisible IF???"
Everybody loves bed-time stories. That ritual of childhood that settles one down from the turbulent activities of childhood and lulls the mind and the nerve-endings to slowly limbo under the bar of sleepiness and gather the necessary 40 winks of REM sleep needed to recharge the batteries and the burgeoning brain-cells of the aware recently-minted child. It can also work for the preoccupied and agitated adult who is lucky to eke out 30 winks without resorting to warm milk and a couple of pills. Bed-time stories are nice and cozy and curatives for the sleep-reluctant child and the sleep-resistant adult and that's a good thing.
IF tells the story of little Bea (Cailey Fleming), who would bristle at that "little" adjective. As she's likely to tell anyone stoically "I'm not a kid anymore." No. She's 12. And as much as her grandmother (Fiona Shaw) wants to treat her like the kid she was, she is highly resistant. There's bad reason for that. She's visiting grandma's in New York, because her Dad (director John Krasinski) is in the hospital there for an upcoming operation—we're not given a lot of specifics but one guesses that it's heart surgery, and Bea is determined to tough it out, be grown-up about it, and not to be a child.
She's had experience at that, as we're shown in the opening credits sequence filled with home movies, she had a rather bucolic childhood full of laughs and the love of her parents. So bucolic that only rarely do you see Mom wearing a warm hat (which will fly by any child watching this movie, but adults will see it and think "cancer"). Bea, you see, lost her Mom at any early age, and now Dad's in the same hospital and she's going to be serious about it, act like an adult, and won't let him or his mother try to cheer her up.
That will be somebody else's job, as she stumbles into the orbit of various "Imaginary Friends" who are at loose ends because their own "Real" friends have grown up and forgotten them. They're employing a placement service run by Calvin (Ryan Reynolds) who is trying to find them new humans, and Bea eventually decides to help out. Cal takes her to the Memory Lane Retirement Home, located in Coney Island, and, with a slightly frayed older teddy bear IF named Lewis (Louis Gossett Jr., in his final role) to start the process of finding new kids for the old IF's.
It does not go well, and Lewis suggests a change of tack—rather than finding replacement people for the IF's, they should try to re-unite them with their old Unimaginary Friends. At this point, you begin to realize that the rules governing IF's is rather arbitrary, and it only gets more arbitrary as the movie goes along. The plot if as untethered as the orphan IF's and lacks any real depth, which puts it at odds with the inspiration that Krasinski was going for when he imagined this movie.
IF references two staples of the Imaginary Friend trope, the movie Harvey (of course) and Bill Watterson's "Calvin and Hobbes" cartoon strip. But, the true inspiration is the output of Pixar Studios. Krasinski has gone on-record to say that his intention was to make a "live action Pixar movie." One can certainly see it when one considers the steals from Up, Monsters, Inc., touches of Inside Out, some character designs that certainly are inspired by Pixar creations. And, admittedly, it is a high bar to set oneself as Pixar has consistently been at the top of the form as far as story-telling, film-making ingenuity, and artistic craftsmanship.
But, there's something that Pixar consistently accomplishes that Krasinski utterly fails at: emotional depth. Yes, it's fun to make a movie about toys, about monsters hiding in the closet, about any high-concept merchandisable gimmick that looks fun. But, Toy Story is just play-things without the concept of abandonment (that's checked off rather clean-fingered in IF), the motivations behind monsters and their creators) in Monsters, Inc., the yearning for something better despite prejudice in Ratatouille, the overcoming of grief in Up (big IF'n steal there!), or the deep-dive into the psychological stew of Inside Out. Krasinski begs, borrows and steals parts from Pixar, but he can't make them work together for a satisfying, mind-blowing epiphany the way that the Pixelators can.*
And, gosh, everybody tries so hard to make it work it was causing me to grind me teeth down to the root. Krasinski—the actor—is constantly working the comedy card, quite winningly, Reynolds, as if sensing he should play against type, dials down the clownishness he excels at, and Cailey Fleming comes off the best, gamely tossing any "cute-kid" shenanigans to survive this zombie of a movie.
Reynolds, Fleming and Gossett's Lewis interview Wall•e...er, uh, Jon Stewarts's Robot
(not that you could tell)
It's a bit like the trick John Huston played with his mystery film of The List of Adrian Messenger, where big A-lister guest stars were scattered in disguise around the movie to see if audiences could guess if they could see them. A nice gimmick, that. But, the real reason to do it was to draw audiences to a movie that only boasted George C. Scott as its lead actor. Here, they're just padding the resumé.
And it results in one of those little things that's emblematic of IF's problems. There is a running gag (more of a stumbling gag...) where Reynolds' Cal keeps tripping over an invisible IF named "Keith." He trips. Yells "KEITH!" After he does it the first time, Cal muses "What kind of a kid comes up with an invisible IF???" And they do the joke again...and again...and again. If you miss the first one, you don't get the rest of them.
To top that off, when they're running the credits (which I noticed people stayed through to figure out who's voice was what) at the end of the IF voices, Brad Pitt is listed as the voice of "Keith." Even though...he never says anything throughout the entire movie.***It would be tempting to say that, like Keith, IF has no "there" there, but some things do work, just not enough to make a movie that's more than only "surface" deep, merely gets by, and certainly doesn't have the resonance of its Pixar betters.
Jon Krasinski has done some good work in the past. But, here he bunts and expects it to be a home run. Now, that's imaginary.
Oh, and how is IF like a good bed-time story? Because I was fighting sleep the entire movie.
* Oh, there's an epiphany, but if you don't see it coming a mile away, then you should have your movie-watching credentials revoked (or your movie-chain club card). Oh, and it's a steal from M. Night Shymalan.
Surprise Ending once, Shame on You. Surprise Ending Repeated, Shame on Me.
Dr. George Milleris fast approaching the age of 80 years old, and whereas most film directors lucky enough to be working at that age have a tendency to make their films slower-paced and more contemplative in nature the older they get, he has gone the opposite direction (and faster!) making movies more expansive and more energetic the more he works.
Not only that, Miller's movies are getting denser—as in having more depth (rather than merely being stupid, which they most certainly are not). There are sub-texts (that aren't merely superficial call-backs to other movies, but to Myth and literature), amazing images (that sometimes recall the after-image of a Fritz Lang or of William Wyler religious epics), a sumptuousness of detail—in environments, costuming, machines—that can't be contained by mere budgets, and a pace that has only gotten faster and more daring as the years have gone on, while also NOT depriving any essential information for an audience to understand exactly what is happening.
George Miller, at 79, is still showing young turk wannabe directors not only how to make movies (and good ones!), but leaving them in his considerable cloud of dust as he out-paces and out-flanks them.
Now, after a jaw-dropping return to making live action movies (after a 17 year absence—during which he made two "Happy Feet" animated features) with his Mad Max: Fury Road (big hit!) and Three Thousand Years of Longing (no one saw it), he's back to his Australian dystopia with a prequel to Fury Road calledFuriosa: a Mad Max Saga,relating the origin story ofCharlize Theron's amazon fury-imperator (now played by Anya Taylor-Joy).
Set in five chapters (1. The Poles of Possibilities; 2. Lessons from the Wasteland; 3. The Stowaway; 4. Homeward; 5. Beyond Vengeance), it tells the story of Furiosa's abduction as a child from "The Green Place of Many Mothers", kept as a trophy by the Wasteland biker-warlord, Dr. Dementus(Chris Hemsworth—in a performance somewhere between a Bond villain and a mad Peter O'Toole), her trade to the Citadel to become a bride of Immortan Joe (now played by Lachy Hulme), and her escape to hide in plain sight as a Citadel worker.
Her ultimate goal is to return to "The Green Place" (we learned what became of that in Fury Road) but, for the purposes of this movie, she is concerned with vengeance against Dementus as the off-kilter boss-wannabe had killed her mother, who had come after the bikers in an attempt to get Furiosa back. And to do that, she must first shed her disguise and become mobile—which she does in "The Stowaway" section (which is one big chase sequence), gaining access to Dementus' "War Rig" and assisting its driver Praetorian Jack (Tom Burke) to ward off pirate attacks in its supply efforts across The Wasteland.
What we've got here is a feminist version of The Searchers, where the kidnap-victim takes it upon herself to free herself from her captors, rather than waiting around for someone else to do it (hard to do as her only known relative was her mother). And along the way, we learn how Furiosa gained her "mad" skills, and how she managed to lose her left arm (and its significance to her quest).
Furiosa has all the hallmarks of a "Mad Max" movie—despite having only one shot of "Max" (Jacob Tomuri) in the entire thing. It careens, it propels, it defies expectations—except to pump adrenaline and amaze in how it builds its world out of spare parts (Dementus drives a chariot pulled by three motorcycles)—and does the vast majority of it using practical effects (a few of the explosions and other bits of business are augmented by CGI) and some of the most daredevil-ish stuntmen on the planet.
But, Miller is pushing the film-making illusions, as well. There's always been a bit of under-cranking (the act of filming at a lower frame-rate to make the action appear faster on the screen) in the "Mad Max" films, but here Miller takes it even farther. If Fury Road was a "10" in that department, Miller risks taking it to "12." There's always the danger of making things look cartoonish that way, but Miller, at this point, doesn't seem to care. There are parts of Furiosa that feel like you're watching it dosed on Ambien, so hyper-kinetic is the result, and the effect is unnerving. But, it works subjectively, despite the objections of some purists.
It's also one of the most "in-your-face" movies in my memory, with quite a few shots that literally zoom in to characters' faces and might cause your foot to instinctively stamp on an imaginary brake pedal (there's one that propels into a face as it explodes in the last frame!). It is dizzying and quite the rush, all the more so because Miller is a director who keeps you aware of where things are and where they relate to the camera. There is nothing scatter-shot about what he does; the only hap-hazardness is what he has happen on-screen.
It's great. Wonderful story-telling. But, it's not for the sensitive—"sequences of strong violence and grisly images" and all that—but apocalyptic dystopias rarely are. And Furiosa is a nice little dervish-y spin on the Mad Max Universe and a fresh take on its tropes.
Miller's got another story ready to film out of this Fury Road saga. It'll probably be even more dynamic. Miller, approaching 80, isn't one to slow down.
Watching him go from Mr. Rogers grip (under his real name Michael Douglas—but, sorry, it was already taken) to light comedy to full-on comedy, to becoming Tim Burton's "go-to" guy to light drama (superhero variety) to full-on drama and slipping back and forth between cōmoedia and tragoedia to where he can easily turn from one to the other on a dime. And then, there are the times when he can just turn evil. The man is just plain versatile, but underutilized.
Maybe it was the shadow of the bat holding him back from the spotlight, but, when he was chosen by Alejandro González Iñárritu to star in Birdman (or the Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)—playing, essentially, himself, a serious actor trying to move past his super-hero movie past—the Industry started to notice him again (it helped that Birdman won the Best Picture Oscar and Keaton was nominated for Best Actor), the stakes seemed to be a little lower and his stature seemed a lot higher.
So, it was probably only natural that he'd be confident enough to return to the super-hero movie genre, which he did when he played the costumed villain in Spider-Man: Homecoming playing essentially two parts in one: that villain The Vulture, and his working class alter-ego, Adrian Toomes.
Tom Holland's Spider-Man/Peter Parker battles The Vulture, but doesn't capture him. So, imagine the young super-hero's shock when, arriving to pick up his date for the Homecoming Dance, that the father of the girl he's taking is the same guy he'd earlier tangled with. Spider-Man wears a full face-mask, so Dad doesn't recognize him, but Peter—already nervous about the date—finds out the guy he's already a little leery of is his arch-enemy.
On the uncomfortable ride to the date, Toomes, already curious about his daughter's date, starts to get this funny feeling he's met this kid somewhere before (something Parker doesn't want to have exposed), but gets vague answers from the kid, something his daughter is only too willing to share (she doesn't know the double lives both are living).
And when it becomes clear that the two males have already met—and fought—Keaton merges the two characters—the only too-chummy Dad and the malevolent enemy. It's a tour de force played out in a claustrophobic space, and is a highlight of the movie.
The Set-up: Peter Parker—aka Spider-Man (Tom Holland)—isn't even out of High School yet and he feels like he has the weight of the whole world on his shoulders. Tony Stark—aka Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.)—has just recruited him for super-hero work (the Big Stuff—he just got to work with The Avengers!), but this is high-profile and it's not what he's used to. He's only a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, after all! Now, he's been investigating some thefts from Star Industries—high-end dangerous weaponry and he's traced it to a villain called The Vulture. Standard super-hero stuff. Except he's taking the girl, Liz (Laura Harrier), that he's crushing on to the homecoming dance only to find that her Dad (Michael Keaton)...is the Vulture!
Awkward.
At least "Dad" doesn't know he's Spider-Man...yet.
Action.
[Toomes is driving. Liz looks at herself through her phone camera,
wearing the corsage Peter gave her, while Peter stares out the window.]
ADRIAN TOOMES: What are you gonna do, Pete?
PETER PARKER: What?
TOOMES:When you graduate,
what do you think you'll do?
-
PETER:Oh, I don't know.
-
LIZ: Don't grill him, Dad.
TOOMES:Just saying, you know.
TOOMES: All you guys who go to that school...
TOOMES:...you pretty much have
your life planned out, right?
PETER:Yeah, no, I'm just a sophomore.
LIZ: Peter has an internship with Tony Stark.
I think he doesn't have to worry.
TOOMES:Really?
LIZ: Mm-hmm
TOOMES: Stark?
LIZ: So cool.
TOOMES:What do you do?
PETER:Yeah, actually,
I don't intern for him anymore.
-
[Liz turns to Peter, frowning.]
LIZ: Seriously?
-
PETER:Yeah, it got...
PETER:...boring.
LIZ: It was boring?
LIZ: You got to hang out with Spider-Man.
TOOMES:Really?
TOOMES:Spider-Man?
TOOMES:Wow.
TOOMES:What's he like?
PETER:Yeah, he's nice.
Nice man.
Solid dude.
TOOMES: Hmm.
[Liz shows Peter her phone.]
LIZ: Look. So cute.
[Toomes keeps stealing glances at Peter.]
TOOMES:I've seen you around, right? I mean...
TOOMES:...somewhere. We've-- Have we ever-- ?
TOOMES:Because even the voice--
LIZ: He does Academic Decathlon with me.
TOOMES:Oh.
LIZ: And he was at my party.
TOOMES:Ah.
PETER:It was a great party,
PETER:really great, yeah.
- Beautiful house, a lot of windows.
-
[Peter and Liz smile at each other.]
LIZ: You were there for, like, two seconds.
PETER:That was-- I was there longer
than two seconds.
-
LIZ: You disappeared.
-
PETER:No. No, I did not disappear.
LIZ: Yes, you did. You disappeared like
you always do,
LIZ: like you did in D.C. too.
[Toomes glances at Peter suspiciously.]
[He stops at an intersection.]
TOOMES:That's terrible what happened
down there in D.C. though.
TOOMES: Were you scared?
[Peter nods tersely.]
TOOMES: I'll bet you were glad
when your old pal Spider-Man...
...showed up in the elevator though, huh?
[Peter glances at Liz, then:]
PETER:Yeah, well, I actually didn't go up.
PETER: I saw it all from the ground.
[Toomes stares at Peter through the rearview mirror.]
PETER:Yeah.
Very lucky that he was there that day.
TOOMES:Good old Spider-Man.
LIZ: Dad, the light.
[Toomes continues driving
...and arrives at Midtown High.]
[Outside, well-dressed teenagers are walking to the entrance decorated with colorful balloons.]
TOOMES:Here we are.
TOOMES:End of the line.
LIZ: Thanks, Dad.
TOOMES:You head in there, gumdrop.
TOOMES:I'm gonna give Peter the "dad" talk.
LIZ: Don't let him intimidate you.
LIZ: Love you.
-
TOOMES:Love you, gumdrop.
-
LIZ: Have a safe flight.
[Liz gets out of the car and joins her friends.]
LIZ: Hi.
You guys look so pretty.
[Toomes turns to Peter with a gun.]
TOOMES:Does she know?
PETER:Know what?
TOOMES:So she doesn't.
TOOMES:Good.
Close to the vest. I admire that.
TOOMES:I've got a few secrets of my own.
TOOMES:Of all the reasons
I didn't want my daughter to date...
[Toomes cracks a grin and shrugs, but Peter does not say anything.]
TOOMES: Peter...
TOOMES:...nothing is more important than family.
TOOMES:You saved my daughter's life.
I could never forget something like that. So I'm gonna give you one chance.
TOOMES:Are you ready?
TOOMES:You walk through those doors,
you forget any of this happened...
TOOMES:...and don't you ever,
TOOMES:ever...interfere with my business again.
TOOMES:Because if you do...
TOOMES: ...I'll kill you...and everybody you love.
TOOMES:I'll kill you dead.
TOOMES:That's what I'll do to protect my family, Pete. Do you understand?
[Peter nods, unable to meet Toomes’ eyes.]
TOOMES:Hey- I just saved your life.
Now what do you say?
PETER:Thank you.
TOOMES:You're welcome.
TOOMES:Now you go on in there and you show
my daughter a good time, okay?
