Review: You Must Catch 'Foxcatcher'

I’ve always liked Steve Carell even if at times I haven’t been so thrilled by the movies he’s made. Somewhere under the often ridiculous comedy there is something ‘going on’ I find, something behind the eyes, some sadness or pathos at least. Ben Stiller and Robin Williams have the same thing and it is very alluring as well as incredibly skilled. Carell’s ‘serious’ side was shown off in ‘Little Miss Sunshine’ but not to the extent it is in ‘Foxcatcher’. 

Foxcatcher tells us the (by me at least) forgotten story of the Schultz brothers, Mark and Dave, American Olympic gold medallists in wrestling, who accepted patronage of John Du Pont  (heir to the Du Pont family chemical company fortune). Du Pont had an obsession for wrestling a sport he was never good enough to compete in himself. The film explores how he plays out this obsession through the Schultz brothers (particularly Mark), a team of fit young blokes at the Foxcatcher farm camp near Philadelphia in the 90s. The film shows the erratic, eccentric, cold and charmless DuPont mentoring and manipulating his charges and growing more erratic and possibly unravelling mentally as he edges closer to his ideal of an Olympic gold medal. I have to say I found it extraordinary that a wealthy individual (and/or his company) could be the patron (through financial gift)of a nation’s Olympic team – or am I naïve and ignorant?

Carell is creepy and cold and the progression into something ‘mad’ to deliver the denouement (no spoiler here) is totally convincing and shocking. Couple this performance with a fine portrait of Mark Schultz by Channing Tatum and a taut and touching portrayal of Dave by Mark Ruffalo and you have a great ensemble piece in a difficult story beautifully directed by Bennett Miller.  I’d also commend Vanessa Redgrave in the tiny but integral role of Mother DuPont and Guy Boyd as Du Pont’s adviser/lawyer. One quibble on the way Mark Schultz was written though. He is offered to us as a bit sullen and thick, perhaps a bit sub-par intellectually and yet we know he was a college graduate and has continued to do well in the world. I hope this wasn’t an easy target choice to gain empathy or manipulate the audience to take ‘sides’, love the simpleton, hate the monster. That would be a terrible condescension.

The film seems to me to tiptoe around two gay themes, wrestling/surrounding oneself with fit young guys in skimpy outfits rubbing up against each other and the relationship between Du Pont and Mark. Schultz has recently gone a bit ferral about what he sees as the film’s suggestion he and DuPont might have done the deed. I didn’t see that although I think there is an undercurrent in one scene where I thought ‘hello, what’s happening there’. In some ways though the film goes more machosexual than homosexual, he appears to valorize macho power through his own being, through how he sees those in his circle and how he views his nation being ‘great and powerful’. He certainly objectifies those around him so you wonder in what way he values them or simply seeks to possess them or control them certainly there’s an element of domination which gets a bit yucky really. And as for wrestling, surely no one denies the homo-eroticism in wrestling do they?

And I certainly did have a knowing smirk when a huge army tank he buys is delivered and he gets very shitty to discover the gun he asked for didn’t come with the tank. Hmmm?  

In the end I’m not sure it matters but is the shying away from any explicit gay scenes because factually it’s uncertain (or nonsense) or a bit of primness in case certain parts of the cinema industry (Oscars) and the potential audience (sports loving religious) might find ‘difficult’.

Whatever, this is a fine film ,well made and splendidly acted. It’s a horror film without the gore and splatter, even sans a piercing soundtrack.

4 out of 5

Review: 'Birdman' - Fantasy Takes Flight

There are a group of films released each year which are said to be populated with ‘Oscar Moments’. These are the scenes where the actors work their socks off emoting and reaching deep inside themselves to unleash bathos, pathos and find kudos. They’re the moments when you might sigh, let out a little breath; perhaps an awww, even shed a tear.

I used to ‘know’ a great moment in a film when I got involuntary goose bumps. I don’t get them so much these days, is that because I’m inured or because I can all too often see the ‘stitches’ these days, films so finely manufactured that there are no surprises and there are more Oscar Moments than genuine examples of nuanced performance. The two aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive but I’m becoming more and more cynical about exploitation and manipulation. Blockbusters are on the rise and thrive on exploitation so maybe the response by other genre makers is to employ the same devices, After all many blockbuster directors ‘cross over’ to narrative films.

Birdman stars Michael Keaton as Riggan Thomson, a former superstar thanks to the hit Birdman series of films. A couple of decades later and we find him struggling financially, has been abandoned by Hollywood and according to his daughter is relevance deprived. We find him making his Broadway debut in an adaptation of a Raymond Carver novel, self financed and taking on the director role. His male co-star has to leave the play just before previews and is replaced by Edward Norton just to add another dynamic in a film about dynamics and dynamism. It’s also a film of Oscar Moments and a fair bit of verbosity.

The performances are all solid apart from, surprisingly, Naomi Watts who grates in nearly every scene.

I have to confess I didn’t understand everything that was going on and I’d hoped the ending of the film was about three scenes before the ‘real’ ending came (however the penultimate scene was terrific).

The film is technically accomplished. It appears the film is shot in one continuous take – it’s not – something for the film fans to argue over. This works well in the confines of the St James Theatre and in one scene out on Times Square. It’s a conceit but a nice one for cinephiles.

It’s incredibly wordy, an actor’s film if you like, but good words, interesting words and yes sometimes baffling words. The support cast of Norton, Watts, Emma Stone and Lindsay Duncan set us up for the theme of love and acceptance and their aspirations around those. Stone probably does it best but I thought the almost cameo appearance of Duncan was possibly the most germane on the theme, a small scene, few words but oh what those words ‘said’. All those fine words tend to fizz out towards the end and there are too many loose threads left lying around while we are shunted into Riggan’s finale.

This is a film of very good moments. There is a lot to ponder on and chew over. Michael Keaton is riveting and proves he is an actor of note, a film actor for our times. If he does win an Oscar though I wonder whether it will be because of his acting overall or because of those Oscar Moments.

3½ out of 5

Postscript:  You know hundreds of films are released in America each year and yet less than a dozen of those films feature in the Oscars. Similarly hundreds, maybe thousands of actors appear in films through the year and yet maybe 25-30 are deemed worthy of an Oscar nomination. Nominations are about marketing and campaigns (read about Jennifer Aniston and her campaign to get a nomination this year) and trends. We tend to rush to see a film that is nominated rather than equally worthy films that might be on. I get it, I’m no different. I think we just need to know the reality and contain our reverence for some of these awards sometimes. Is it not perfectly possible to have every film released in the running for awards and just have them voted on? The ones that get the most votes win the ‘most popular’ award and perhaps have a panel similar to the Cannes judging jury who award ‘best performance’ awards. Just sayin’

Review: Paper Planes - an Aussie High Flyer

Here’s the formula. There’s the single parent, maybe loser dad who doesn’t quite get what being a parent entails so of course is ‘absent’ at least emotionally. Maybe it’s mum with a bag full of ‘issues’ and/or addictions not working or working in the kind of job the middle class label as ‘dead end’.

Our child hero copes as best they can with the burden of parenting the parent while being voiceless in their community be that school, sports club, friendship circle etc. BUT they have a gift, momentarily undiscovered but which soon is revealed so the story arc can move along. They might be nerdy with a penchant for chess or a whiz at spelling who enters a spelling bee, great at basketball or ice skating can be a good angle but the point is they are ‘good’.

Of course there is a villain or bully, often a grown up but even better if it’s another kid. He has to be a brat and someone we just want to hiss at (ah that’s what pantomimes were about). No matter we know they will get theirs when the time comes, when redemption hits.

There will be stages as the story develops and our hero wins a heat, a qualifier to progress to the nxt stage and maybe just maybe they’ll get to the final and then, wellll we know what’s gonna happen at the end don’t we?

Hang on mum and dad need redemption too. We have the discovery, the revelation of what troubles them and we might even have the hero speak the magic words that turn them around BUT redemption will be theirs. The final has to be fought but dad’s housebound with his phobia or his despair and can’t leave the house or the poky little flat they share; mum is off with the useless druggie boyfriend or stuck with an extra shift at work (can’t give it up because the mean boss will sack her and then where will we all be), oh dear sad times but hope is all around (maybe even on the stirring soundtrack). 

We get to the big moment, the little hero against the big bad world, the demons and the heartache, the myth made real. Poor little fella or lass has to take it all on their skinny shoulders and we know they’ll come through but look who’s that up in the bleachers or coming in the door of the arena (nicely lit and framed, and that music…pass the tissue), yay, be still my swelling heart.

‘Paper Planes’ is 100% formula and ticks every manipulative and exploitative box there is. And I loved every minute of it. Ed Oxenbould as Dylan the paper plane ‘pilot’ extraordinaire had to carry the film and did it extremely well. Sam Worthington as his dad was good although the script probably limited him more than needed. Pete Rowsthorn, Terry Norris and Deb Mailman gave great support in their roles, Norris particularly (although occasionally cloyingly clichéd) and the standout co-star was Julian Dennison as Dylan’s mate. Very natural and smooth, he had some real laugh out loud moments.

Beautifully shot on a number of Australian and Japanese locations paper Planes has a lovely confident look about it easily equal to the best of Hollywood and European films of this sort.

Beautifully directed by the great Robert Connolly this film should do well here and in the overseas markets given the right support.

Go see this feel good Aussie high flyer. 3 ½ out of 5

http://www.paperplanesmovie.com.au

Just Sayin'

I’m a tad conflicted or maybe I’m vexed, I concede I might even be confused or, shockingly, naïve.

Here I sit writing this blog in a (arguably) democratic country with all the rights and freedoms that entitles me to. I am free to say what I like within reason, write what I think within legal boundaries and do whatever takes my fancy as long as the government and law makers deem it to be ok. Balance that with some of my fellow citizens (of the country and the world) who are less well treated, national security and operational matters being invoked to deny me my right to know some things, including why I might be deemed a security threat, and life is pretty damned good. My main complaint day to day at the moment is disgusting humidity and rising prices.

So why am I vexed?

Freedom of speech is troubling me. I stand with the people who were murdered in Paris last week. I declare solidarity with the staff of Charlie Hebdo and I fall down weeping when I think of those killed in the Hyper Cacher supermarket.

And yet I don’t feel Je Suis Charlie. Mostly.

I have a general philosophy that it is unacceptable to rubbish, make fun of or denigrate someone’s religious beliefs. I am a Christian of the Catholic variety and my faith is rock solid. I have significant concerns about the ‘management’ of the organisation that facilitates the practice of my beliefs but I am grown up enough to separate the two. I know what I believe and it carries me through my life and the way I choose to live it. I constantly question my beliefs and I even sometimes have doubts about God (oh boy do I have questions) BUT I have never lost faith even in the darkest, saddest and cruelest times.

I am amused by atheists (seriously they are hilarious) and I am amazed by how many commentators, Tweeters, Bloggers etc can’t seem to differentiate between religion and individuals. Responsibility always belongs with the person rather than the religion and yet the sweeping generalisers go for the faith rather than the faithful. Odd?

Satire when done well (perhaps code for when I enjoy it) is one of my favorite forms of humour. It pricks pretension, it puts politicians on notice, it can make us think differently, is simply clever and it shatters assumptions.

Satire when done badly is offensive for the sake of it, a play thing for the smart arses and often puerile.

Cartoons can be simply funny and that is their raison d’etre. Others celebrate superheroes and yet others are social commentary. Gary Larson, Michael Leunig, Ron Tanberg, Kathy Wilcox and others can capture a million thoughts in a single frame cartoon.

Charlie Hebdo is not my cup of tea. I suspect it is an equal opportunity offender, it doesn’t care who or what it targets, it exists to take the piss and show how hilarious it is…in its own mind.  It’s a bit tiresome frankly and is probably more at home in an undergraduate magazine than a high street publication.  

Having said that I can see no reason why it ought be banned, even vilified. And I sure as hell see absolutely no justification for ten good, honest people working for the rag to be slaughtered by a pair of murderers defiling the beautiful religion and prophet whose name they dare to proclaim as theirs. These filthy creeps died in shame with the stain of blasphemy to Islam and Muslims which they dared to hijack to commit horror. May they rot wherever they are.

I found the cover of the latest issue of Charlie Hebdo affecting, amusing and moving.  It wasn’t satire, it was just right.  I can’t speak to the suggestion it is offensive for the depiction of the prophet I sense though that he would be shedding a tear for what was done in his name and I find that hard to see as offensive.

Having these conflicting views, I struggle when people talk about freedom of speech because sometimes it allows hatefulness. I am vexed though in that limiting speech allows bad stuff to happen. It turns down the lights a bit, the curtains are drawn a fraction, the shutters start to descend. Governments can get away with all sorts of things, corporates can play merry hell, the extremes on both sides of politics can party with our paranoias and our basic access to information can be diminished to what someone else deems ‘appropriate’. That’s before we consider what we can write, say or seek to debate. Or make fun of.

There is no doubt there’s a lot of hideous stuff on the internet, mindless banality on chat sites, excruciating pomposity on blogs (sorry) and hatefulness in the streets. I just think that I would rather it be there for me to see, challenge, or be offended by than have it hidden away. I have a right to be offended, I have a right to be amused and outraged and challenged for my opinions. The other side to that is that others have a right to do all that to me. Yes, even the haters. I can even cope with the stupidity of an anti vaccination advocate doing speaking engagements, or someone like David Irving sprouting his ridiculous bile and Richard Dawkins is welcome anytime to give me a good laugh and remind me why smiling is so much more preferable to scowling. Of course I'd rather the atheist cult be represented by the brilliant mind of Stephen Fry than the grumpiness and sarcasm of Dawkins. Oh Stephen, such a brain and yet so baffling. 

Often of course (as in the current resurgence of debate in Australia about the loathsome proposed changes to S18c), the argument about freedom if speech has more to do with power than freedoms. Who stands to gain when freedom of speech or the press is limited? Who is left to be 'heard' and who is silenced? This privileged white guy doing a blog will keep plodding along. Despite his hand wringing the hideous Andrew Bolt or the purse lipped Alan Jones and their ilk will be just fine...we ought to worry most about who won't.

And, as always, we just have to be better.
 

We Have Nothing To Fear...Nothing

‘There are very few monsters who warrant the fear we have of them.’ - Andre Gide

 

I was listening in on a chat yesterday where the two people were talking about the number of air tragedies in 2014. I was surprised when one of the women said ‘you wouldn’t get me on a plane again, they just aren’t safe anymore. Thus Air Asia business just makes it worse. No, I’ll stay at home or only go anywhere by train from now on”. 

It’s funny what drives our fears isn’t it? Sometimes it’s something that goes back to our childhood – a spider that seemed gigantic when we were three stays with us throughout our lives and no matter the size of the spider it always ‘appears’ gigantic and menacing as an adult, being thrown in the air by our favorite uncle when we were 4 stays in our mind and returns whenever we are high up somewhere etc etc. All irrational and easy to beat but often it’s as though we can’t quite let go.

So here’s a bit of myth busting for you:

·         3.2 BILLION (that’s 3,2000,000,000) people flew last year

·         1340 people were killed in a plane crash

·         1972 was the highest recorded number of air deaths – over 3000

·         The war years (1940s mostly) naturally had the highest number of crashes and proportionate number of deaths (ie less flights, less ‘souls’ on board per place)

·         Approx 1.24 million people die on roads worldwide each year (one person every 25 seconds)

·         1.5 million people die from diarrhoea annually worldwide

·         7.3 million people die from cardiac related illness

·         6.2 million people die from brain attacks (strokes)

·         Approx 6 million people die from tobacco related illness each year (some of these would be included in cardiac and stroke figures)

·         Between 200,00 and 500,000 die from influenza annually (hard to be definite as many influenza deaths are classified as lung infections, fevers etc)

While the last year seems to have been one disaster after another perception is not reality (rarely is – observe politics). There are risks in travelling by air, mainly ‘economy class flu’, DVT or flying bags from overhead lockers. But the risk is far greater every time we get in a car, cross a road, smoke a cigarette, eat some fatty food or sit next to someone with the flu. In fact we are probably better off flying everywhere than almost any other form of public transport.

Letting fear rule our lives or even determining our level of enjoyment is a folly and gets in the way of us experiencing life and it’s possibilities. It is usually irrational and more often ill informed. There is no doubt that the media and governments have a vested interest (and in the media’s case a market) to fuel fear. Radicals and ratbags, commentators and crackpots pounce on it and we often react without thinking, researching, asking questions, wondering ‘is there one more thing to this story that I need to know?’ We sadly rely on others to make our decisions for us, to ‘tell’ us what we need to know, to form our opinions and define our ‘shoulds’, 140 characters become our whole argument. The unique human gifts of critical thinking, free choice and reason are slowly shrivelling away because hey who needs those when someone else can decide everything for us? In this climate secrecy grows, facts are subsumed, national security and operational matters are trotted out to deny transparency and fear thrives.

There is always something to think about.

If only we would.