Embracing The Melodrama Part II #121: No Good Deed (dir by Sam Miller)

Posted on June 15, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

So, this weekend, my BFF Evelyn and I were watching the critically reviled 2014 film No Good Deed. As we watched Idris Elba (playing the role of Colin) viciously and violently choke to death a character played by Kate del Castillo, Evelyn said, “He can strangle me any time that he wants.” My first instinct was to reprimand my friend and remind her that it’s not empowering to allow a man to murder you, regardless of how unbelievably sexy that man may be. But then, by the time that Idris was murdering Leslie Bibb, I found myself agreeing. Seriously, Idris Elba can do anything he wants to me….

Idris is pretty much the only reason to see No Good Deed. No Good Deed is one of those crappy suspense films where every plot point hinges on someone acting like a total idiot. Colin escapes from prison. Colin murders his ex-fiancee after he discovers that she’s been cheating on him. Later, Colin crashes his truck outside of the house of Terri Granger (Taraji P. Henson). Terri’s husband is out-of-town and when Colin shows up at her doorstop and asks to use the phone to call for a tow truck, Terri invites him inside. Terri’s friend Meg (Leslie Bibb) shows up. Mayhem follows. Of course, there’s a big twist at the end.

This is where I’d usually say something like, “DON’T REVEAL THE SURPRISE ENDING OF NO GOOD DEED!” but, honestly, you’ll figure it out within the first few minutes of the film. It’s pretty obvious and it’s pretty stupid. I won’t reveal it but if you see the film, feel free to tell all your friends about the big twist. Some films were meant to be spoiled.

As I watched No Good Deed and found myself hissing at the terrible dialogue and the total stupidity of all of the characters and wondering if any of the filmmakers had ever actually met any real human beings, I found myself wondering how this film could be so incredibly bad. I hopped onto the imdb and discovered that the film was written by Aimee Lagos.

If you don’t recognize that name, Lagos also wrote and directed the absolutely terrible movie, 96 Minutes. And I will say this: No Good Deed is slightly better than 96 Minutes.

That’s the power of Idris Elba.

(Incidentally, it bothers me that nobody in this film is actually named Deed. If Colin’s full name had been Colin Deed … well, that would have been pretty stupid but it would have at least been kinda fun and entertaining.)

(Also, for those keeping track, that’s 121 reviews down and 5 to go.)

Embracing the Melodrama Part II #120: We Need To Talk About Kevin (dir by Lynne Ramsay)

Posted on June 15, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

This is a historic occasion!

Two months and one week ago, I started on this journey that we call Embracing the Melodrama, Part II. At the time, I announced that I would be reviewing 126 film melodramas and that I would get it all done in 3 weeks. Well, I was 6 weeks off as far as the timing was concerned but I am going to reach the 126 mark.

(And then I’m going to pass out and sleep for a year…)

We started this series by taking a look at the 1927 silent classic Sunrise and now, 119 reviews later, we have reached the disturbing 2011 film, We Need To Talk About Kevin.

We Need To Talk About Kevin tells the story of Eva (Tilda Swinton). Eva was once a very successful travel writer, who explored the world and lived a life of total independence and sophistication. Now, however, she has a demeaning job at a travel agency. She lives in a dilapidated house that is the frequent target of vandals. Everyone in town views her as a pariah, either deliberately avoiding her or greeting her with open hostility.

You see, Eva is the mother of a teenager named Kevin (Ezra Miller) who is currently in prison. One day, Kevin locked all of his high school classmates in the gym and, using a bow and arrow set that was given to him by his father, Franklin (John C. Reilly), Kevin proceeded to kill or maim them all, one-by-one. When Kevin finally surrendered to police, he looked over at his mother and he smirked.

We Need To Talk About Kevin unfolds in flashback as Eva looks back on her former life and tries to understand how her son could do something so evil. From the time that Kevin was a baby, Eva suspected that there was something wrong with her son and found it impossible to bond with him. While Franklin spoiled him and refused to accept that there was ever anything wrong, Eva went the opposite direction. When Eva became more and more convinced that Kevin was evil, Franklin refused to listen to her.

And, make no mistake about it, Kevin is evil. For the majority of the film, he is one of the most evil characters that you’ve ever seen. (It’s even suggested — though thankfully never shown — that he may have deliberately blinded his little sister.) We, like Eva, wonder if Kevin was born evil or if he became evil as the result of the way he was raised but there’s no doubt that he’s evil.

And then, one day, Eva goes to visit her son in prison and we see a different Kevin. Kevin is about to turn 18, which means that he’ll be transferred to an adult prison. Kevin admits that he’s scared. In this scene, the cocky and hateful Kevin is one. This new Kevin has shaved off his previously unruly mop of hair. His face is bruised and he has a cut above his eye, suggesting that, within the walls of the justice system, he’s no longer the attacker but instead the one being attacked. He no longer smirks or glares at his mother. Instead, he looks lost and vulnerable.

And, at first, I actually felt sorry for Kevin when I saw that scene. I guess it was maybe my own maternal instinct coming out or maybe my own tendency to feel compassion for those who have no freedom. But, at that moment, I felt as if maybe Kevin finally understood that what he did was wrong. Just like Tilda Swinton’s Eve, I suddenly felt compassion for this hateful creature…

Until, of course, it occurred to me that the only time that Kevin showed any fear or regret was when it came to his own situation. As scared as Kevin is, Kevin never expresses any regret over what he did. Instead, he’s scared for himself and upset that he no longer has control of his situation. Though the film never states it, that’s classic sociopath behavior. (One is reminded of the BTK Killer, who unemotionally talked about those he killed but then cried when talked about having to spend the rest of his life in prison.)

At that point, I realized that Kevin hadn’t changed at all. Much like Eve, I wanted to believe that Kevin had changed because that, at least, would give the story some sort of closure. But, unfortunately, the Kevins of the world can never change. We may not know how someone like Kevin is created, whether he’s born evil or becomes evil due to circumstances. But we do know that evil can never change. That’s the burden that both Eve and the audience must carry.

We Need To Talk About Kevin is a lot like Million Dollar Baby. It’s well-directed and fiercely well-acted but, at the same time, it’s so sad and disturbing that I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to watch it again. There are a few moments of very dark humor, mostly connected to just how oblivious everyone, with the exception of Eve, is to Kevin’s evil. But make no mistake, this is a seriously dark film.

(For those keeping track, that’s 120 reviews down and 6 to go.)

Embracing the Melodrama Part II #119: Shutter Island (dir by Martin Scorsese)

Posted on June 15, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

The 2010 film Shutter Island finds the great director Martin Scorsese at his most playful.

Taking place in 1954, Shutter Island tells the story of two detectives, Teddy Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio, giving an excellent performance that, in many ways, feels like a test run for his role in Inception) and Chuck Aule (Mark Ruffalo, also excellent), who take a boat out to the Ashecliffe Hospital for The Criminal Insane, which is located on Shutter Island in Boston Harbor. They are investigating the disappearance of inmate Rachel Solando, who has been incarcerated for drowning her three children.

Ashecliffe is one of those permanently gray locations, the type of place where the lights always seem to be burned out and the inmates move about like ghostly visions of sins brought to life. It’s the type of place that, had this movie been made in the 50s or 60s, would have been run by either Vincent Price or Peter Cushing. In this case, the Cushing role of the cold and imperious lead psychiatrist is taken by Ben Kingsley. Max Von Sydow, meanwhile, plays a more flamboyantly sinister doctor, the role that would have been played by Vincent Price.

When a storm strands Teddy and Chuck on the island, they quickly discover that neither the staff nor the patients are willing to be of any help when it comes to tracking down Rachel. As Teddy continues to investigate, he finds himself stricken by migraines and haunted by disturbing images. He continually sees a mysterious little girl. He has visions of his dead wife (Michelle Williams). A horribly scarred patient in solitary confinement (Jackie Earle Haley) tells him that patients are regularly taken to a lighthouse where they are lobotomized. When Teddy explores more of the island, he comes across a mysterious woman living in a cave and she tells him of even more sinister activity at Ashecliffe. Meanwhile, Chuck alternates between pragmatic skepticism and flights of paranoia.

And I’m not going to share anymore of the plot because it would be a crime to spoil Shutter Island. This is a film that you must see and experience for yourself.

This is one of Martin Scorsese’s most entertaining films, an unapologetic celebration of B-movie history. He knows that he’s telling a faintly ludicrous story here and, wisely, he embraces the melodrama. Too many directors would try to bring some sort of credibility to Shutter Island by downplaying the film’s more melodramatic moments. Scorsese, however, shows no fear of going over the top. He understands that this is not the time to be subtle. This is the time to go a little crazy and that’s what he does.

Good for him.

Embracing the Melodrama Part II #118: The Kids Are All Right (dir by Lisa Cholodenko)

Posted on June 15, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Dare I admit to thinking that the 2010 best picture nominee The Kids Are All Right is overrated?

The Kids Are All Right tells the story of Nic (Annette Bening) and Jules (Julianne Moore), married lesbians in Los Angeles. The pragmatic Nic is an obstetrician while the more flighty Jules has a landscaping business. They also have two children, Laser (Josh Hutcherson) and Joni (Mia Wasikowska). When Laser and Joni decide to track down their anonymous sperm donor father, the trail leads to Paul (Mark Ruffalo), who owns an organic restaurant. (Of course, he does…) After Paul meets Nic and Jules, he eventually ends up having an affair with Jules, which threatens the family’s stability.

It’s been five years since the film first came out and, as a result, I think it’s easy to forgot what a big deal The Kids Are All Right was back in 2010. It got a lot of attention for being both a film about a lesbian couple and a box office success. To a certain extent, every LGBT-themed film to come out since owes a debt of gratitude to The Kids Are All Right for proving that audiences are willing to see films with LGBT characters. As well, the film’s box office success was an early sign of the growing support for the legalization of gay marriage. The Kids Are All Right can make a very valid claim to being a landmark film.

But, once you look past the film’s historic importance, it doesn’t hold up as well as you might hope. The performers are all good, especially Annette Bening. The film’s script also has a lot of good lines. However, it also has a lot of lines that feel just a little bit too glib and obvious. It’s not surprising that HBO considered turning The Kids Are All Right into a TV series because the entire movie really does feel like an above average episode of an hourly drama. Lisa Cholodenko’s visually flat direction also feels more appropriate for television than for the big screen.

As much as I hate to admit it, I’d probably be more into The Kids Are All Right if the characters were a little less wealthy. If you can look past the fact that this is a movie about a happy lesbian marriage being threatened by a clueless straight guy, you discover that The Kids Are All Right is essentially just another movie about rich white people with problems.

I guess my problem with The Kids Are All Right can be summed up by the scene where Jules fires her Mexican gardener because she suspects that he’s seen her with Paul. The scene is largely played for laughs and, after the gardener has lost his job, he’s never seen again. At one point, Jules does say that she feels guilty for firing him but again, the scene is played for laughs. The film asks us to laugh with the rich white characters and to laugh at the one non-rich non-white.

The Kids Are All Right is a historically important film but that’s not necessarily the same thing as being a great film.

Embracing the Melodrama Part II #117: Never Let Me Go (dir by Mark Romanek)

Posted on June 15, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

I can still remember, back in the year 2010, when I first saw Never Let Me Go at the Dallas Angelika. Going into the film, I didn’t really know what was waiting for me. I hadn’t read the novel that it was based on. All I knew was that it had a cool trailer and it starred two of my favorite actresses, Carey Mulligan and Keira Knightley. Before I watched Never Let Me Go, I didn’t even know who Andrew Garfield was but that changed quickly. Never Let Me Go took me by surprise. I figured it would be a sad movie, based on the melancholy trailer and title. But I had no idea how sad or effective it would be. By the end of the movie, I was in tears.

And, even though I was already writing for this site at the time, I somehow never wrote up a review of Never Let Me Go. Oh, I certainly meant to. I went out of my way to recommend the movie on twitter. I included it on my list of films that deserved Oscar consideration. But I never actually got around to writing that full review. The emotions were just too overwhelming.

Well, I’m going to use this opportunity to recommend that, if you haven’t already, you make an effort to see Never Let Me Go. It’s a beautifully done film, one that confirms that director Mark Romanek is a major talent who really should have more than just three feature films to his credit. (True, he does have a lot of music videos…) As well, the film was written by Alex Garland, which should interest those of you who fell in love with Ex Machina earlier this year.

As for the film itself, it takes place in a world where, we’re told, a medical breakthrough was discovered in 1952 that allows people to live to be over 100 years old. The details of that medical breakthrough are slowly revealed to us over the course of the film. Unfortunately, it’s impossible to really talk about this film without revealing those details so consider this to be your SPOILER WARNING.

Basically — much as in Clonus — life has been extended through the use of cloning. Cloned children are raised outside of the view of “normal” society. They go to special schools. And when they turn 18, they are harvested for their organs. Clones are told that their ultimate goal is to “complete,” which is a polite way to say that most of them die before they ever reach 30. A few lucky ones are allowed to be “carers.” They take care of and comfort dying clones and, as a result, they get to put off their first organ donation for a few years.

Unlike Clonus, where the cloning was clandestine and done only to benefit the very rich, the clones are not a secret in Never Let Me Go. Everyone knows why they exist and everyone knows what is going to ultimately happen to them. Whenever the clones are allowed to leave their schools and explore the real world, they are greeted with a mix of hostility, fear, and guilt. Because they are due to be sacrificed, society chooses to believe that the clones are somehow less than human.

As for the clones, the majority of them accept their fate. You watch Never Let Me Go and you keep waiting for some sort of revolution and it never comes. Some of the clones are angry. Many of them desperately believe that there’s some way that they can avoid having to give up their organs. A good deal of the film is spent listening to people you’ve come to love talk about getting a “deferral” that the audience knows does not exist. For the most part, though, the clones passively accept their fate because that’s what they’ve been raised to do.

The film itself follows three clones from their childhood to their completion. Kathy (Carey Mulligan) is a carer. Ruth (Keira Knightley) starts out as a snob but softens as her fate becomes more and more inevitable. And, lastly, there’s Tommy (Andrew Garfield). Tommy starts out as an awkward young boy and he grows up to be an awkward young man. Of all of them, Tommy is the most convinced that, as a result of the artwork he innocently drew as a boy, he will somehow be given a deferment. Garfield is so heartbreaking in this role. When he finally snaps and screams in frustration, you scream with him.

Never Let Me Go is not an easy film to watch but it’s one that I highly recommend. It’ll make you think and it’ll make you cry. And after you watch the movie, read Kazuo Ishiguro’s wonderful novel. It’s even more heart-breaking than the movie.

Trash Film Guru Vs. The Summer Blockbusters : “Jurassic World”

Posted on June 14, 2015 by Ryan C. (fourcolorapocalypse)

“Everything old is new again.”

How many times have you heard that one? Well, in the case of the just-released (and record-setting in terms of its worldwide box office take) Jurassic World, it turns out that tired old adage is actually quite true, since director Colin Trevorrow has chosen to hew pretty closely to Steven Spielberg’s original model for this fourth installment in the previously-presumed- moribund franchise extrapolated from the works of Michael Crichton. There’s certainly nothing happening here that one could call overtly “new,” per se, but gosh — it’s been so long since Jurassic Park III that it all just sorta feels new, ya know?

CGI technology has come a long way since the original Jurassic Park made its debut in 1993, as well, and that’s a big factor — maybe even the biggest factor — in this new flick’s by-popcorn-movie-standards “success,” but don’t think that means I’m damning Jurassic World with faint praise. Truth be told, we just got back from seeing it in Imax 3-D and it’s got pretty much everything you’d ever want in a brainless summer thrill ride : superb effects, likable leads, drama, suspense, tension-cutting humor, nicely despicable (sorry, does that even make sense?) villains, and mile-a-minute thrills. My wife and I both left the theater smiling and I ain’t ashamed to admit it.

My only real gripe is one that I knew I’d have going in — Jurassic World continues the morally-questionable trend established at the series’ outset of using kids placed in danger (in this case brothers Zach and Gray, played by Nick Robinson and Ty Simpkins, respectively) as its primary focus/narrative crutch, with benevolent adults coming in to save the day (here represented by Chris Pratt’s “dinosaur wrangler” character Owen, and Bryce Dallas Howard — who, goddamit, Hollywood is bound and determined to make a star out of yet! — as their hitherto- inattentive aunt Claire, who’s one of the park’s big-wigs), and I’m sorry, but if you don’t know why that scenario is inherently creepy to some of us, then you haven’t been paying much attention to the some of the uglier and more salacious rumors about Spielberg’s personal life that have been swirling around for decades now. And that I won’t repeat here. So let’s just move on, shall we?

In any case, that solitary-but-predictable qualm aside, the fact of the matter is that Jurassic World is expertly-crafted throwaway fun. Not every movie needs to re-invent the wheel to stand out, and Trevorrow wisely has that figured from the outset here. All we want from his big-budget extravaganza is pretty much the same sort of story that had us jumping in our seats all those years ago, and to feel the same sort of “rush of excitement” that we did back then and which the two previous installments in the series just weren’t able to capture. It’s a dinosaur movie, for Christ’s sake, so just give us a shit-load of dinos on the loose and we’re gonna be happy! How hard is that to figure out?

About the only wrinkles to the formula here are the introduction of the new genetically-engineered “super-dinosaur” Indominus Rex, and the hare-brained scheme laid out by the villainous Hoskins (Vincent D’Onofrio) to train Velociraptors to be — uhhmmm — super-soldiers for the US army. But rich people with more money than sense employing unscrupulous lackeys and amoral scientists have been a Jurassic staple, in one form or another, from jump, and one might even argue that really smart people doing really dumb things has always been at the heart of these flicks. That’s okay with me if the end result is admittedly disposable fare done with this much gusto, flair, and panache. There are a million and one reasons to write off Jurassic World as derivative, senseless garbage, sure — but when you’ve got five or six bloodthirsty dinosaurs battling it out for supremacy at the end, I don’t care about any of those intellectual (or, as is more often the case, pseudo-intellectual) arguments. I’m just having a damn good time.

What Evelyn and Lisa Marie Watched Last Night #125: I Killed My BFF (dir by Seth Jarrett)

Posted on June 14, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Last night, my best friend forever Evelyn and I watched the latest Lifetime film, I Killed My BFF.

(Watching a movie called I Killed My BFF with my BFF? How could that possibly go wrong?)

Why Were We Watching It?

Evelyn and I love to watch the Lifetime original series, I Killed My BFF. For those of you who may not obsess over Lifetime like we do, I Killed My BFF is a true crime show about best friends who end up killing each other. Each episode features dramatic reenactments and the fun comes from trying to guess which friend will be the murderer and which friend will end up meeting a very gruesome end.

(I know it’s probably in bad taste to refer to a true crime show as being “fun” but … oh well.)

From the minute that Evelyn and I heard that Lifetime would be airing a film version of I Killed My BFF, we simply knew we would have to watch.

(According to the imdb, I Killed My BFF was originally titled The Neighbor. I’m not sure if it was originally meant to have any connection to the I Killed My BFF series or not. If I had to guess, I would say that Lifetime bought the film and changed the title to make it appear to be a spin-off of the I Killed My BFF series, in much the same way that Lucio Fulci’s Zombi 2 was specifically titled to fool European audiences into thinking that it was a sequel to George Romero’s Zombi, or Dawn of the Dead as it was known here in the States.)

Also, another reason Evelyn and I were watching the movie together is because that’s what BFFs do! (Except when they’re busy killing each other, of course….)

What Was It About?

When blonde Shane (Katrina Bowden) meets redheaded Heather (Olivia Crocicchia) at the hospital, shortly after both of them have given birth, they quickly become BFFs. Unfortunately, they both have their struggles. Heather is bipolar. Shane is ambitious but poor. Of course, their biggest problem is that they are characters in a film called I Killed My BFF and that means that one of them is going to be dead by the end of the movie.

What Worked?

This was actually one of the better Lifetime films that I’ve seen this year. The film looked great, director Seth Jarrett never allowed the film to drag, and both Katrina Bowden and Olivia Crocicchia gave good performances. (Olivia Crocicchia, in particular, was heartbreaking in some of her vulnerable moments.) Even the film’s score was pretty good! All in all, this film was exactly what we want when we watch a Lifetime true crime movie.

What Did Not Work?

Part of the fun of I Killed My BFF: The Series is that you’re never quite sure which BFF is going to die until the last few minutes of each episode. Unfortunately, the commercials for I Killed My BFF: The Movie revealed, ahead of time, which BFF was going to die. They served as a HUGE spoiler.

Though it may seem nitpicky, by the time the murder occurred, Heather and Shane were no longer really friends. This film should have been called I Killed My Ex-BFF.

“Oh my God! Just like us!” Moments

Okay, so obviously you know that you’re taking a risk when you and your BFF decide to watch a movie called I Killed My BFF. But it was still kinda freaky how much Evelyn and I had in common with Shane and Heather. For instance, Heather had red hair and so do I! Evelyn has pretty blonde hair and so did Shane! Heather took a “gazillion meds” and so do I! Evelyn looks good in red and so did Shane! It was uncanny and a little disturbing!

After watching the movie, I assured Evelyn that I would never murder her and, after thinking about it for a disturbingly long time, Evelyn agreed that she would probably never murder me. But then, every episode of I Killed My BFF begins with the BFFs saying the exact same thing! Listen, I love my BFF but I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t spend all night looking over my shoulder.

Lessons Learned

Be careful when it comes to picking a BFF. Apparently, some people just can’t handle the pressure of being a best friend forever.

Embracing the Melodrama Part II #116: The Young Victoria (dir by Jean-Marc Vallee)

Posted on June 14, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

So, earlier, I was having a conversation with my BFF Evelyn and I discovered that we both have a massive girl crush on Emily Blunt.

And really, can you blame us?

First off, Emily Blunt is incredibly talented. She’s one of those actresses who can play just about anyone and anything. I have never heard or seen an interview with her where she seemed to be anything less than intelligent and witty. She speaks her mind and projects an attitude of not really caring what other people think about her. Add to that, she’s absolutely gorgeous and she has a body and a face to die for. If I were to ever get a nose job (and that’s always been a temptation for me), I would definitely tell the surgeon to give me Emily Blunt’s nose.

Evelyn and I also love the fact that Emily Blunt always plays characters who kick ass, often times literally. Whether it was in Looper or Edge of Tomorrow or the upcoming Sicario, one thing remains consistent. You simply do not mess with Emily Blunt because she’s a fighter.

Finally, Emily Blunt gets to spend every night with Jon Krasinski!

Seriously, how can you not love Emily Blunt?

Emily Blunt first received attention as the result of supporting turns in The Devil Wears Prada and Charlie Wilson’s War. Her first starring role — or, at the very least, her first starring role to receive wide distribution here in the states — was in the 2009 film, The Young Victoria.

The Young Victoria attempts to do for Britain’s famous Queen Victoria what Elizabeth did for Queen Elizabeth I. It attempts to humanize an iconic figure and show that, underneath the popular image of Victorian refinement and emotional repression, Victoria was actually a passionate and headstrong woman. And the film largely succeeds at doing that because Victoria is played by Emily Blunt.

Unfortunately, The Young Victoria is never quite as interesting as Elizabeth. Whereas both films feature young queens struggling to prove themselves worthy of leading Britain, Elizabeth benefited from being conceived as a renaissance version of The Godfather. Elizabeth was full of shadowy conspiracies, ominous whispers, and secrets. When, at the end of the film, Elizabeth had solidified her hold on the British crown, you felt that she had truly accomplished something and that perhaps her victory was worth living the rest of her life as the Virgin Queen.

Whereas in The Young Victoria, the conspiracies basically amount to smug civil servants assuring themselves that Victoria won’t do something and then being shocked when Victoria does exactly what they weren’t expecting her to do. And, while it’s undeniably fun to watch Victoria refuse to sign away her power and announce that she can decide for herself what her royal role should be, that’s largely because it’s always fun to watch Emily Blunt stand up for herself.

The majority of the film is taken up with Victoria being courted by Prince Albert (Rupert Friend). Again, there’s no real conflict in Victoria and Albert’s relationship. We know that Victoria is eventually going to marry Albert. And, even when the two have an argument towards the end of the film, you know that they are going to reconcile. What you may not be prepared for is a scene where Albert is gravely wounded while protecting Victoria from an assassin’s bullet. That’s because it never happened. A man did attempt to assassinate Victoria but he failed and Albert was not wounded at all. But then again, why let history get in the way of a good story?

On the poster at the top of the post, The Young Victoria is described as being “gorgeous.” And really that’s the main reason to see the film. The film looks really, really good. The costumes and the sets are wonderfully ornate. The cinematography is vibrant and lush. And Emily Blunt’s performance can rightly be called gorgeous. By the end of The Young Victoria, you really don’t feel like you’ve learned anything new about Queen Victoria. But you do appreciate Emily Blunt.

Embracing the Melodrama Part II #115: Revolutionary Road (dir by Sam Mendes)

Posted on June 13, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

I have such mixed feelings about the 2008 film Revolutionary Road.

As you may remember, Revolutionary Road got a lot of attention because it reunited the Titanic lovers, Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio. In Revolutionary Road, they would be playing the type of married couple that we all know Jack and Rose would have become if the boat hadn’t hit that iceberg.

Revolutionary Road also got a lot of attention because it was directed by Sam Mendes and it was a return to the “suburbs-as-Hell” genre of filmmaking that won Mendes an undeserved Oscar for his work on American Beauty.

And finally, Revolutionary Road was based on a 1961 novel by Richard Yates that had originally been declared to be unfilmmable. After decades of being optioned and then abandoned, Revolutionary Road was finally coming to the screen.

With all that in mind, a lot of critics expected that Revolutionary Road would be one of the best films of the year. When the film itself was finally released, there were a few ecstatic reviews. There were predictions of Oscar glory. But, for the most part, both audiences and critics had a somewhat muted reaction. The film itself simply did not live up to all of the build up.

That said, Kate Winslet gave a great performance. In the role of aspiring actress-turned-housewife-turned-prisoner April, Winslet gives a fierce and tragic performance. The film revolves around April’s struggle to live her own life and pursue her own ambitions in a world that continually tells her that she should simply be happy and content to have a husband, two children, and a house in the suburbs. When April describes her life as being full of “hopeless emptiness,” we all know exactly what she’s talking about.

Leonardo DiCaprio was a bit less convincing as her husband, Frank. Then again, that’s not really a surprise. DiCaprio is always at his worse whenever he has to play a “normal” character. His screen presence is too off-center for him to be believable as a suburban conformist. It was obviously good publicity to reunite DiCaprio and Winslet but that doesn’t change the fact that Leo is totally miscast. Whenever Frank and April fight, Kate Winslet seems to be screaming from her very soul while DiCaprio is just shrill. Admittedly, Frank is meant to be a shallow character but that doesn’t justify a shallow performance.

Throughout the film, Frank and April are constantly nagged by their real estate agent, Helen Givings (Kathy Bates). Whenever Helen drops by the house, she goes “Yoo hoo!” in the shrillest way possible and the audiences is reminded that Sam Mendes is not a particularly subtle director. That willingness to go over-the-top made him the perfect director for Skyfall but, in both American Beauty and this film, it just leads to some talented actors giving very bad performances.

Helen’s son, John (Michael Shannon), has one of those cinematic mental illnesses, the type that gives him the power to explicitly state each scene’s subtext. John is also one of those overly theatrical characters who works a lot better as a literary conceit than as an actual character.

And really, I guess that sums up why I have never liked Revolutionary Road as much as I wanted to. The film works whenever it focuses on Kate Winslet, precisely because she gives such a heartfelt and naturalistic performance. However, at the same time, Winslet is so good that she exposes how artificial and theatrical the rest of the film is. If only the rest of the production had followed Winslet’s lead, Revolutionary Road could have been something great.

For all the pre-release Oscar hype, Revolutionary Road was largely ignored when it came to the Academy Awards. Michael Shannon received a surprise nomination for best supporting actor but otherwise, the film was snubbed. Kate Winslet, however, did finally win an Oscar that year when she picked up the Best Actress award for her performance in The Reader.

Embracing the Melodrama Part II #114: The Wrestler (dir by Darren Aronofsky)

Posted on June 13, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

I’m always a little surprised by how much I like the 2008 film The Wrestler.

Actually, to be honest, I’m more than a little surprised. I’m a lot surprise. First off, The Wrestler takes place in the world of professional wrestling and that’s a world that I not only know nothing about but which I also have very little interest. (My cousin Gustavo — Hi, Gus! — loved the Rock. That’s about the extent of my knowledge.) Add to that, The Wrestler doesn’t take place in the world of televised pro wrestling. (I may know nothing about wrestling but I do know a lot about television.) Instead, this is a world of backroom matches, broken dreams, and fading lives.

Secondly, The Wrestler features, as its hero, a man in his 50s who is still a total and complete fuckup. The character of Randy “The Ram” Robinson (played, in an Oscar-nominated performance, by Mickey Rourke) is perhaps epitomized by the fact that, after going out of his way to try to reconnect with his daughter, Stephanie (Evan Rachel Wood), and setting up a dinner date so that they can finally talk and get to know each other, Randy ends up getting consumed with self-pity, getting drunk, getting high, getting laid, and ultimately standing up his daughter. And whenever I see that part of the movie, I hate Randy just as much as Stephanie does because I know exactly how she feels. Stephanie can’t forgive Randy and neither can I.

And yet, oddly enough, I still care what happens to Randy. Randy is a former wrestling superstar, a guy who was big in the 1980s but now lives in a haze of obscurity and self-pity. He now wrestles on the weekend, works a demeaning job at a super market deli, and occasionally plays an old video game which features him as a character. His only real friend (and source of strength) is Cassidy (Marisa Tomei), a stripper who knows what its like to get older in a profession dominated by the young.

Randy does have one final chance at a comeback, when he agrees to an exhibition fight against his former nemesis, a “villainous” wrestler known at The Ayatollah (Ernest Miller). (It’s interesting to note that, outside of the ring, “bad guy” Ayatollah seems to be everything that “good guy” Randy is not, i.e., responsible, stable, and content with his life.)

However, there’s one problem. Randy has a heart condition and he has been told that continuing to wrestle could kill him. Will Randy give up the only thing that he’s ever been good at or will Randy potentially sacrifice his life to have one last chance to hear the cheers of the crowd?

Randy Robinson is another one of director Darren Aronofsky’s obsessive protagonists, a character who is so obsessed with something that he’s sacrificed everything else to pursue it. Fortunately, Aronofsky is a master of making these type of characters sympathetic. Over the course of the film, Randy fucks up so much that you really are tempted to just give up on him but Aronofsky directs the film with such compassion and Rourke gives such a vulnerable and emotionally raw performance that you find yourself giving Randy another chance despite your better instincts. The film’s melancholy ending is effective because you know that it really is the only way that Randy’s story can end.

I’m always surprised to like The Wrestler.

But I do.