Moonrise Kingdom (2012)

 

Moonrise Kingdom is the charming story of how an island full of quirky, eccentric people reacts to a pair of 12-year-olds running away to be together. It’s almost impossible not to smile throughout this light romantic comedy, particularly if you’re familiar with the films of director Wes Anderson and even if you’ve seen it before—maybe especially if you’re watching it for a second or third or even fourth time. The couple at the heart of the film, Sam (played by Jared Gilman) and Suzy (Kara Hayward), meet backstage at a church’s performance of a Benjamin Britten opera, and their correspondence for the next year (most of which is shown on screen as well as narrated in voice-over) leads to their decision to go to a more secluded part of the fictional New Penzanze Island so that they can be together. Their disappearance puts everyone in the film on edge: the police chief (Bruce Willis), Suzy’s parents (Bill Murray and Frances McDormand), Sam’s Khaki Scoutmaster (Edward Norton), etc. Anderson is working with a top-notch cast here, and they all approach their roles with the sort of deadpan style typical of his films. Everyone and everything is so matter-of-fact in the way it is played that you become aware of how you become increasingly willing to accept ever more outlandish actions and behaviors as the movie progresses. The film also features Anderson’s usual close attention to detail, with the costumes and sets and props all being perfectly chosen. For example, a battery-powered record play serves such a vital role in the film that it almost becomes a character itself. By the time it gets used to play “Le temps de l’amour” by Francoise Hardy as accompaniment to a wild dance on the beach, you start to want one of these players for yourself. Overall, there’s a fine line here that the film gets close to crossing, perhaps, where an audience might feel uncomfortable about seeing such young performers acting so much in love, but this ersatz Romeo and Juliet with their almost monotone delivery and the more innocent time period of 1965 keep the emphasis on the simplicity and even naiveté of young people in love. They fall in love at first sight because they recognize a kindred spirit; both of them have been described as “emotionally disturbed” or “troubled,” after all, and there are similar pairings throughout this delightful film. You also get a lot of laughs here, such as the chase involving dozens of Khaki Scouts (played by a talented group of young actors) and brief performances by such powerhouse actors as Tilda Swinton and Harvey Keitel. It’s no wonder that Wes Anderson’s films have gotten increasingly more popular among the general population. They’re almost too precious—the British might call it “twee”—to ignore. 

Oscar Nomination: Best Original Screenplay

Unstoppable (2010)

 

Unstoppable is a great tension-filled adventure involving a runaway train in Pennsylvania. Two goof-offs (played, appropriately enough, by Ethan Suplee and T.J. Miller) fail to follow the protocol for getting a train started, and so one loaded down with dangerous (flammable, toxic, etc.) freight heads off on its own and starts to gather speed on its own. Much of the film involves the attempts to slow down and/or stop the train before it reaches a dangerous curve in Stanton near some large fuel storage tanks, threatening a huge disaster if the train derails. Almost every attempt to stop it fails, including dropping a person from a helicopter onto the train and a ridiculous attempt by police to shoot out the shutoff switch (conveniently located near the fuel tank), until Denzel Washington’s Frank Burns and Chris Pine’s Will Colson decide to catch up to the runaway train with their engine. They figure they’ll either drag it to a slower speed or manage to pull it in the other direction… so long as all of the brakes hold out. Frankly, that’s enough to keep the interest of an audience, but Unstoppable burdens both Frank and Will with quite a bit of unnecessary back story. Frank’s wife has died of cancer, and he has two teenage daughters who are working at Hooters in order to pay their way through college. Will is under a restraining order and is unable to see his son except from a distance. Of course, we need a happy ending, a reconciliation at the end of the film, so we have to learn all of this, I suppose. And that’s not all: Frank, an engineer, is also being forced out of his career after 28 years, and Will is just beginning his work as a conductor, having finished his training only four months earlier. As an old-timer and a newbie, their banter and interaction before and during the crazy attempt to stop the runaway is fun and interesting, but it’s an action movie, so thankfully, the emphasis is often on the action more than the dialogue. There is a bit of a misdirect early in the film involving a train full of school children on a field trip. We are made to think that they will be in the most danger and that much of the film will involve saving them from a collision. However, what the film really emphasizes is Frank and Will’s rescue mission. It’s a thrilling movie overall, and it features good performances from Washington, Pine, and Rosario Dawson (in the typically thankless role of the person stuck in the central office who has to encourage Frank and Will remotely). There’s also a bit of fun business involving a welder named Ned (played with considerable gusto by Lew Temple), who drives his truck alongside the runaway train and is being followed by a series of police cars. Ned, however, seems to know what Frank and Will are going to do, and he’s there to make it happen (and claim some of the glory for himself). It’s a nice touch to the overall excitement of the film.

Oscar Nomination: Best Achievement in Sound Editing

In Bruges (2008)

 

In Bruges is, by turns, funny and dark, silly and despairing. It’s the tale of two Irish hit men who are sent by their demanding boss to hide out in the Belgian title city after a hit goes horribly wrong. The younger of the two men, Ray (Colin Farrell), while performing a hit on a priest in a confessional, accidentally killed a young boy. Apparently, hit men and their bosses have scruples: who knew? Ray and his mentor Ken (the subtle Brendan Gleeson) are meant to enjoy the city, but while Ken enjoys the medieval churches and the canal rides and other historical, tourist spots, Ray hates it. However, he soon finds a way to stay busy with a series of misadventures. Stumbling up a film shoot that includes an American dwarf as the star, Ray falls in love with a drug dealer named Chloe (Clemence Poesy). He picks a fight with a Canadian couple while dining out with Chloe, then later has to ward off an attack from her boyfriend when he goes back to her place for sex. Ken, meanwhile, has gotten the order from Henry (a very tightly wound Ralph Fiennes) that he has to kill Ray because the murder of an innocent child is unforgiveable. Ken doesn’t want to kill his friend; he feels that Ray can still be redeemed. It was his first hit after all. The strength of In Bruges lies primarily in its script. The banter (bickering?) between Farrell’s Ray and Gleeson’s Ken is delightful, dark at times, playful at others. They discuss what the death of a boy could mean; it’s some heavy existential stuff at times. However, they also have a raucous night with the dwarf film star (Jordan Prentice, stealing every scene he’s in), snorting coke and enjoying the company of hookers. Farrell has the flashier role, and he makes good use of it. This is one of his best performances in years. Thanks to the script by the talented Irish playwright Martin McDonagh, even relatively minor characters such as the pregnant woman who owns the hotel where Ken and Ray stay while in Bruges contribute to the depth of the story. All of the performers get moments to shine, and the city itself serves as a lovely backdrop to the action.

Oscar Nomination: Best Original Screenplay

Australia (2008)

Because it clocks in at almost three hours long—and it’s a very long three hours, trust me—the film Australia has a lot of opportunities to shift its tone, much to its detriment, to be honest. What seems like it might be a comedy, almost cartoon-like in its plot and performances, at first, eventually becomes a World War II movie and a tragic examination of the mistreatment of the aboriginal people of Australia. At times, given the icy prudishness of Nicole Kidman’s Lady Ashley, it even borders on a sex comedy. She’s obviously got the hots for Hugh Jackman’s Drover (and, given his prominent shirtless scene, who wouldn’t be?), but decorum or some such nonsense keeps her from acting on it for far too long. The plot is a bit of a muddle, frankly. Lady Ashley has arrived in Australia from England, determined to get her husband to give up his failing cattle ranch. After her husband’s murder, she has to work with Jackman’s Drover to get the cattle to market in order to have enough money to keep her home, and the cattle drive takes up a significant portion of the film, allowing the filmmakers to showcase the beauty of Australia’s geography. Kidman’s aristocrat becomes protective of a child of white and aboriginal heritage, a so-called “half caste,” after his mother dies trying to protect him from being taken from her, and when we learn later that Drover had an aboriginal wife who died from being refused medical treatment and that Lady Ashley is unable to have children, it’s only a matter of time before the three of them form a family structure. The film grapples with some large issues such as who actually owns what and who really belongs to whom, but the film tends to treat them rather simplistically. References to the film The Wizard of Oz and the song “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” appear throughout the film, and the pun on the use of “Oz” is cute but a bit of a distraction at times. Australia is a lovely film in terms of its production design and cinematography, but its attempts to create an epic examination of Australian themes lead to a bloated, rather dull movie overall.

Oscar Nomination: Best Achievement in Costume Design

Flags of Our Fathers (2006)

Flags of Our Fathers is the companion picture to director Clint Eastwood’s Letters from Iwo Jima. Flags of Our Fathers presents an American perspective on the Battle of Iwo Jima while Letters from Iwo Jima tells some of the same events from the perspective of the Japanese in the battle. (Yes, Letters from Iwo Jima is the superior film and deserved its nomination for Best Picture; it stretched Eastwood’s talents as a director more than this film does.) The film follows three of the men credited with raising the American flag on Mount Suribachi after an American victory. Much of the film occurs in flashbacks; the present-day narrative follows the three as they are exploited by the government on a bond tour, used rather shamelessly to raise money for the military. Each of the men is give very quick, broad strokes of characterization. Marine Private First Class (PFC) Ira Hayes (played with great reserve by Adam Beach) is a Native American who, despite being a war hero, is refused service in a bar, and even military officers who know of his accomplishments refuse to shake his hand. Hayes’ mistreatment as a result of racism deserves a movie of its own, so powerful are these moments in the film. His story resonates long after the film ends. PFC Rene Gagnon (Jesse Bradford) is the most popular of the three because he always seems willing to play along with whatever crazy scheme the government officials come up with for the three men. He’s also a bit of a flirt, but when his girlfriend (Melanie Lynskey) wants her own time in the spotlight, their marriage becomes another part of the tour. Sadly, his popularity doesn’t last beyond the war as he can’t find a job despite being offered lots of opportunities during the way (“come and see me…”). The third man, Navy Corpsman John “Doc” Bradley (Ryan Phillippe), gets less of a story than his son does and certainly less than the other two men. Much of the flashbacks related to Doc involve his guilt over the death of his friend Iggy (Jamie Bell). Given that Doc didn’t discuss the war much—he disliked being called a “hero”—his son has to interview several people to find out more about his father. Flags of Our Fathers is particularly effective at depicting the battle scenes that are shown in flashback. The film also addresses some of the controversies associated with the flag raising. The famous photograph was actually taken of a second flag raising; the Secretary of the Navy asked for the flag from the first raising but Col. Chandler Johnson (Robert Patrick) feels his battalion deserves it more. This does, however, complicate giving credit to the correct service members. One of the men in the photo is misidentified, leading to some painful moments with the mothers of those who were killed in action. Judith Ivey plays the mother one of the men who raised the flag but didn’t get proper credit initially; she makes the most of her few seconds on screen, and her ability to recognize her son by looking at his butt in the reproduction of the photograph in her local paper is priceless. Flags of Our Fathers is often most effective in its smaller moments, such as when Hayes, Gagnon, and Bradley are served a dessert in the shape of the flag raising, only to have the servers pour a sauce the color of blood over it. There’s also a papier-mâché version of the mountain that they’re asked to climb as part of one bond rally. It’s quite emotional to see just how demeaning were some of the activities the military asked them to complete. The closing credits for the film feature a series of photographs from that famous day, including some of the images of the first flag being raised. An interesting side note: Flags of Our Fathers lost to its companion film (Letters from Iwo Jima, in case you’ve already forgotten) in the Category of Best Achievement in Sound Editing.

Oscar Nominations: Best Achievement in Sound Mixing and Best Achievement in Sound Editing

Apocalypto (2006)

 

We aren’t spared much visually in terms of brutality in Apocalypto, a film about indigenous people around the time of the Mayan civilization in Mexico. The movie, directed by Mel Gibson with his usual penchant for highlighting violence and cruelty, includes scenes of people getting their throats cut, a jaguar eating a man’s face off, beheadings, and, perhaps most infamously, a Mayan priest tearing the heart out of the chest of a man and showing it still beating to the assembled blood-thirsty masses. All of this (and more) plays out in full view. The cinematography of Apocalypto is first-rate—the film is beautifully shot overall—but there is a lot of blood and gore splashed across the screen. The film has a rather simple plot. Jaguar Paw and his father and father and friends hunt for a tapir. They joke with each other and enjoy the results of their hunt. When they return home, they lead regular lives. One of his friends is suffering from his mother-in-law’s insistence that he sire some grandchildren for her. Their peace is rather short lived, though. The hunters had already seen a group of refugees in the forest, and it isn’t long into the film before Jaguar Paw’s village is attacked. Many villagers die at the hands of the attackers, and we are witness to most of their deaths, including the throat-cutting of Flint Sky, Jaguar Paw’s father, in front of this son. Any surviving men are taken captive to be used for human sacrifice in the Mayan city. The women who are taken captive are sold as slaves. The surviving children are left behind as if they are worthless to the attackers. Jaguar Paw’s wife Seven and young son Turtles Run hide in a pit, hoping to stay there safely until Jaguar Paw’s return. The journey to the Mayan city is fraught with obstacles, such as the difficulties of being tied to a severely wounded captive who keeps falling down from exhaustion, and their arrival in the Mayan city is quite the visual spectacle. Following the bizarre prophecy of a young girl with what appears to be leprosy—someone the captors and captives encounter on their journey—Jaguar Paw manages to escape being beheaded and de-heartened thanks to a solar eclipse, an alleged sign from the gods. However, he then has to try to escape from his initial captors, who get to use him and his fellow surviving men as target practice—even more ways to die violently. His attempt to escape through the forest becomes a sort of “and then there were none” journey, as one by one, his pursuers meet gruesome ends (see the earlier reference to a jaguar eating a man’s face off…). By the end of the film, only two of the original captors survive, but even they halt in the face of the arrival of the Spanish with their armor and weapons and priests. We should all know what happens next to the Mayans; if you don’t know your history, let’s just say it doesn’t bode well for the indigenous people. The film’s actors reportedly spoke the closest approximation to the original Mayan language, the Yucatec Maya language. The performances are uniformly good, but other than Rudy Youngblood as Jaguar Paw, most of the characters are rather broadly drawn, so it’s difficult to rouse a great deal of empathy, especially when you start to realize that most of these characters won’t last very long on screen. And, to be fair, the names of most characters appear in subtitles only one, if at all, so it’s not even easy to keep track of what they’re called. I suppose that kind of anonymity feeds into one of the movie’s themes, that of the poor who are often sacrificed in the building of a great civilization (even though the film seems to confuse some of the characteristics of Aztec civilization with that of the Mayans). I’m not sure that’s really what resonates with an audience, though. It’s more likely to be the memory of the acts of violence that will linger most and longest.

Oscar Nominations: Best Achievement in Makeup, Best Achievement in Sound Mixing, and Best Achievement in Sound Editing

House of Flying Daggers (2004)

 

At its most basic level, House of Flying Daggers is a Hong Kong film that merges martial arts with a love story in the Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon vein. Of course, the storyline itself is quite different from that earlier, more famous (and Oscar-rewarded) film, but the successful blending of the genres makes this movie a success too. In its own way, the plot is rather simple. Against a backdrop of a struggle between a corrupt government and a rebellious force known as the House of Flying Daggers, two men, captains in the military, decide to use a blind showgirl, whom they think is the daughter of the previous leader they have killed, as a means to find the House. One of the men, Jin (Takeshi Kaneshiro), “rescues’ the showgirl, Mei (Zhang Ziyi), from a prison where she is being held captive after demonstrating some remarkable martial arts talents. They are followed everywhere they go and are attacked frequently by soldiers, creating a great deal of suspense as to whether or not they can survive on their journey toward the House of Flying Daggers. Jin and Mei grow to love each other even though they also keep pushing each other apart. It’s a lack of trust at first that keeps them apart, but later it’s the result of him thinking about how he might be betraying his cause by falling in love with the enemy. As realistic as the film can be at times, it’s more of a fable or folktale where the bigger issues of loyalty become less important in the face of overwhelming love and desire for another person. Revelations later in the film come as quite a surprise to the audience and send the film off on a different trajectory, but the core of the film’s plot—the love story—remains the clear focus. House of Flying Daggers is one of the most beautifully shot films of the first decade of the 21^st Century. Two sequences, in particular, highlight the stunning camerawork. The first occurs early in the film, as the other captain, Leo (Andy Lau), forces Mei to participate in an “echo game” where he flicks a bean (or several beans) and she has to strike a drum that would be on the opposite side of circle of drums that surround her. No small feat for a blind showgirl. The other sequence is the stunner, though, as Jin and Mei are attacked by soldiers in a bamboo forest. The greenness of the forest, the swoosh of the weapons, the fast-paced editing—all contribute to the power of this beautifully shot sequence. Scenes like these are, undoubtedly, the reason that House of Flying Daggers was one of the nominees for Best Achievement in Cinematography but sadly lost to The Aviator, a far inferior film in many ways.

Oscar Nomination: Best Achievement in Cinematography