"Never Let Me Go", based on the brilliantly subtle novel by Kazuo Ishiguro, opens with an understated poignancy that carries through to the film's conclusion. A cohesively monochromatic production design, combined with skillful use of light, deepens the vague untethering from familiar reality.
We are introduced to an English coed boarding school, run by none other than a rather creepy Charlotte Rampling (great casting!), and attended by children who nearly glow with health and eagerness. There is a uniformity in response by the children, and an ignorance on the children's part of the world beyond the school's walls that suggest something is amiss.
All is revealed in layers, nuances, suggested rather than pronounced. The hushed quality of steady revelations furthers the haunting poignancy, as well as a sense of hopelessness and pathos. There is a claustrophobic squeeze of looming mortality. Are these children human? And how is humanity and self-awareness defined by beings who are created for a specific utility?
Casting and performances are superb. Carey Mulligan, Andrew Garfield and Keira Knightly portray a trio of school mates who proceed together into young adulthood. Mulligan's features and expressions ideally suit her character's quiet desperation. Knightly has an admirably angry edge to her beauty rarely seen in her previous work. Garfield, as the only person who expresses rage at his condition directly, yet holds his rage in store, is particularly memorable. The ever incredible Sally Hawkins, as a rebelliously kind teacher, wakes everything up just a necessary bit.
"Never Let Me Go" is set in a recent and recognizable past, with an internal twist that wobbles reality's axis. Costumes, set design and cinematography interweave to create a consistent world. The musical score is unfortunately insistent to an annoying degree.
The film succeeds by what is suggested and unsaid, and by the trio of characters' struggle to be dimensional. That is the point, in a way. How do we define ourselves if our purpose in living has been externally set? "Never Let Me Go" is a meditation on mortality, a tone poem of human interaction, all from the realm of sadly believable interference.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Winter's Bone
"Winter's Bone", directed by Debra Granik, is grim, grey and woven of poverty's hard grist. It is also meticulously well made and resonantly powerful in its quiet texture.
Set in present time in the Ozarks (which looks to be a dreary world indeed, lacking, for instance, social services of any sort), "Winter's Bone" is accurately named for the ubiquitous bone-chilling cold that abounds literally and figuratively. Music is used in a refreshingly minimal manner, so that the crunch of frozen leaves underfoot, the sizzle of lard in a pan, the wind in bare-branched trees are audible. No musical guidance, just the sounds of life.
Every nuance of production, from set design to cinematography, is seamless and consistent. Casting and performances are impeccable throughout. Jennifer Lawrence is deeply impressive as Ree, a teenager whose mother is unhinged, father is missing, and possibilities are bleak. She cares for her young siblings, her mother, and her animal family members with a maternal wisdom far beyond her years. She lives in a world of babies and guns, hunger and cold, with intelligence and weary grace.
John Hawkes as her wild-eyed uncle brings an edgy complexity to his role. He's not any kind of hero, but he will have to do for Ree.
Violence is a potential, an underlying tone, more than a predictable plot device. No time is wasted on sentiment, nor energy spent on fairy tales. Moments of tenderness are hushed and unheralded. The best that can happen is preventing the worst from occurring. And as "Winter's Bone" so skillfully depicts, sometimes that's plenty.
Set in present time in the Ozarks (which looks to be a dreary world indeed, lacking, for instance, social services of any sort), "Winter's Bone" is accurately named for the ubiquitous bone-chilling cold that abounds literally and figuratively. Music is used in a refreshingly minimal manner, so that the crunch of frozen leaves underfoot, the sizzle of lard in a pan, the wind in bare-branched trees are audible. No musical guidance, just the sounds of life.
Every nuance of production, from set design to cinematography, is seamless and consistent. Casting and performances are impeccable throughout. Jennifer Lawrence is deeply impressive as Ree, a teenager whose mother is unhinged, father is missing, and possibilities are bleak. She cares for her young siblings, her mother, and her animal family members with a maternal wisdom far beyond her years. She lives in a world of babies and guns, hunger and cold, with intelligence and weary grace.
John Hawkes as her wild-eyed uncle brings an edgy complexity to his role. He's not any kind of hero, but he will have to do for Ree.
Violence is a potential, an underlying tone, more than a predictable plot device. No time is wasted on sentiment, nor energy spent on fairy tales. Moments of tenderness are hushed and unheralded. The best that can happen is preventing the worst from occurring. And as "Winter's Bone" so skillfully depicts, sometimes that's plenty.
The Social Network
When I saw this film, I was not on Facebook, had no interest in Facebook, and continue to be rather low on the technically proficient scale. I knew very little about Mark Zuckerberg, other than a recent profile of him in The New Yorker magazine. I am, of course, intrigued by film, and the means of storytelling that film includes: writing, performance, production details, pacing, sound design, editing, cinematography. And, from that passion and deep interest, I spent the most exciting and riveting 2 hours and 1 minute in a darkened theater watching "The Social Network" than I have spent watching film in ages.
The rhythm, pacing and very smart script coalesce to engage from the very first beat. It's not that the pace is relentless, but that the story is constructed, dialogue spoken and characters revealed in such a skilled manner that my attention never wavered. The sound design and musical choices add enormous texture and intelligent context.
Ironically, Facebook connects people electronically. "The Social Network" conveys the many layers of in person relationship, the complexity of communication, and how loneliness and personal need can drive events.
Jesse Eisenberg, as Zuckerberg, is incredible. His face and body register myriad emotions, subtexts, confusions and comprehensions, sometimes all at once. And the supporting cast, especially Andrew Garfield, equals his excellence. Having just seen Garfield in "Never Let Me Go", I am in awe of his range.
There is not a wasted shot nor a moment in excess. Cinematography, set design, lighting, casting are all top notch. The film is nothing short of exhilarating! Although I did join Facebook, I left the film longing to converse, live time and in person, about "The Social Network". See it and discuss!
The rhythm, pacing and very smart script coalesce to engage from the very first beat. It's not that the pace is relentless, but that the story is constructed, dialogue spoken and characters revealed in such a skilled manner that my attention never wavered. The sound design and musical choices add enormous texture and intelligent context.
Ironically, Facebook connects people electronically. "The Social Network" conveys the many layers of in person relationship, the complexity of communication, and how loneliness and personal need can drive events.
Jesse Eisenberg, as Zuckerberg, is incredible. His face and body register myriad emotions, subtexts, confusions and comprehensions, sometimes all at once. And the supporting cast, especially Andrew Garfield, equals his excellence. Having just seen Garfield in "Never Let Me Go", I am in awe of his range.
There is not a wasted shot nor a moment in excess. Cinematography, set design, lighting, casting are all top notch. The film is nothing short of exhilarating! Although I did join Facebook, I left the film longing to converse, live time and in person, about "The Social Network". See it and discuss!
The King's Speech
The title of this film, "The King's Speech", refers not only to the wartime speeches of King George VI, but also to his manner of speaking. The king, affectionately called Bertie by his family and one friend, had a crippling stammer, resolved only through his work with an Australian speech therapist, Lionel Logue.
"The King's Speech" teeters on the edge of the maudlin, and barely skirts sentimentality, succeeding primarily through the sharp performances of Colin Firth (Bertie) and Geoffrey Rush (Logue). They both skillfully transcend script and description, and are especially fine one on one. Helena Bonham Carter is well cast and wonderful as Queen Elizabeth, later to be known as the dough-girl Queen Mum. Guy Pearce portrays the lily-livered and pointless King Edward with just the right degree of mindless arrogance. Timothy Spall as Churchill is a fun bit of caricature, and Derek Jacobi as the Archbishop of Canterbury seems like Claudius in a bishop's frock.
The screenplay by David Seigler is a balance of poignant moments and humorous relief, although all could have gone far worse in less capable performance hands. Production details are flawless, and the direction by Tom Hooper is sure-handed if not remarkable.
"The King's Speech" frames history from a speech impediment and its resolution. What it poses is that the world's balance in 1939 hung by a thread of not only royal succession but royal expression. The film's balance thrives from the performances that give it life, and the simple but credible notion that even royals need friends.
"The King's Speech" teeters on the edge of the maudlin, and barely skirts sentimentality, succeeding primarily through the sharp performances of Colin Firth (Bertie) and Geoffrey Rush (Logue). They both skillfully transcend script and description, and are especially fine one on one. Helena Bonham Carter is well cast and wonderful as Queen Elizabeth, later to be known as the dough-girl Queen Mum. Guy Pearce portrays the lily-livered and pointless King Edward with just the right degree of mindless arrogance. Timothy Spall as Churchill is a fun bit of caricature, and Derek Jacobi as the Archbishop of Canterbury seems like Claudius in a bishop's frock.
The screenplay by David Seigler is a balance of poignant moments and humorous relief, although all could have gone far worse in less capable performance hands. Production details are flawless, and the direction by Tom Hooper is sure-handed if not remarkable.
"The King's Speech" frames history from a speech impediment and its resolution. What it poses is that the world's balance in 1939 hung by a thread of not only royal succession but royal expression. The film's balance thrives from the performances that give it life, and the simple but credible notion that even royals need friends.
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